Peregrine
by DarkSakura IIDX
Summary: Wallace begins a journey that takes him far from home and his partners. What will he find? What are the Digital Keys?
1. Disclaimer

{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\deff0\deflang1033{\fonttbl{\f0\froman\fcharset0 Times New Roman;}{\f1\fswiss\fcharset0 Arial;}} {\*\generator Msftedit 5.41.15.1503;}\viewkind4\uc1\pard\sb100\sa100\b\f0\fs24 \par **Title:**\b0 Peregrine

\par \b **Chapters:**\b0 Multiple. Work in Progress. 

\par \b Status:\b0 Five chapters and the prologue are completed. Please read them! 

\b\par **Notes:**\b0 Blessed few people write Wallace fanfiction, so I am making the attempt. Some of the ideas and concepts are things I've seen hinted to in particular episodes, so bear with me if I have a continuity issue. 

\par \b **Summary:**\b0 Wallace is instructed to travel for one who cannot. Where will his travels take him? What will he discover? 

\par \b **Thanks to:**\b0 Michelle, sharxgrrl, and Marron-chan for proofreading and encouragement, Akino Ame for correcting an oversight I made, Evan for encouragement as well as computer info that will be incorporated into the last few chapters, and all the Wallace fans who inspired me. Thanks to you all for being so patient for the completion!

\par \b **More Thanks:**\b0 Marron-chan drew some kickass pictures of Wallace as he appears in this fic. Unfortunately, FF.net will not let me put the links in this disclaimer. Poopy. 

\par She also wrote a side story:  
\line Yakusoku: A Peregrine Side Story! 

\par \b **Dedications:**\b0 Chapter Two is dedicated to Mirai Marron-chan, in honor of the fun time we had when I visited her in Las Vegas for the DDR Freak moderators' trip! There would be no Sariel without her! 

\par \b **Apologies:**\b0 I have gone through several long boughts of Writer's Block, as well has several changes in my employment status. I realize that it took me over a year to complete the last chapter, but it's done and I can move on to other fandoms. 

\par \b **Disclaimer:**\b0 Digimon is owned by Toei, and whoever did that not-so-bad US dub. 

\par \b **Son of the Disclaimer:**\b0 Too many people discount this character. Please read this, and make sure you review my fanfic if you do read it! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Flames are not! 

\par \par \pard\f1\fs20\par } 


	2. Prologue

**Peregrine**  
Prologue

****

**Peregrine:** _adj._  
1. Foreign; alien.  
2. Roving or wandering; migratory.

****

_Summer Memory...._

The thought itself was unbidden, unnecessary, yet present all the same. The blonde's brow wrinkled slightly with the recollection of the summer he lost one of his digital partners, the faint smile shifting unconsciously into a slight frown. The expression went unnoticed by the two Digimon romping in the yard a few meters away from the house, as Wallace Ford lay sideways on the porch swing, silently observing, as the breeze attempted to knock the rock holding a stack of letters away from its post.

It had only been a few years since the young man's mother moved the family farther upstate in New York, to a smaller town not too far to prevent her from commuting to the city, and the family would be guaranteed a yard for the growing boy and his hyperactive twin partners. The trio could not have been more pleased with the news, until Wallace had been informed of his enrollment at a specialized school for accelerated learning.

Summer vacation was a blessed time for the young man, to be away from the confines of the dormitory and its restrictions, as well as the ineptitude of the Residential Advisor who insisted that Wallace add classes to his work load to finish school ahead of his already hastened education. The concerns the young Ford voiced were neatly overlooked by this advisor, and left Wallace only a singular option to protect his sanity.

Expulsion was the greatest event of his life. The look on the Residential Advisor's face when he saw Wallace and his amour enjoying 'extra-curricular' activities in the sports storage room could be described as priceless. The proper begging had been done, resulting in his acceptance of the expulsion to "protect the innocent's standing". The venture with the underclassman had indeed paid off.

The time spent in that miserable institution had at least given him the advantage of bypassing a year of High School, allowing him to graduate at the age of seventeen. The year was spent reveling in the absolute mundanity of changing classes, dating, SATs, and homework. It was the purgatory he endured until the blessed day of his graduation, when he proudly accepted his honors diploma.

_Summer Memory...._

The thought remained, as it occurred to him every time he watched Lopmon playing with Terriermon.

_They can't come with me on this journey. I know they realize it._

He recalled how they both latched to him and told him with teary eyes how they hoped he would have a safe journey, and take time to visit them in the Digital World.

_I promise you both. I will miss you most of all...._

Wallace reached lower, taking the letter from underneath the makeshift paperweight extracted from his mother's garden. He read the passage for what may have been the seventh time in the last two hours.

_"My dearest nephew, I cannot begin to express to you how valuable your visit was. Since I lost the use of my legs in the war years ago, and my vision is increasingly impaired, I have regretted the opportunities I lost to enjoy the world around me. I would regret it more if you lost that chance."_

"Take these credit cards, and purchase passports and tickets and whatever else you would need to travel. I expect to receive videos and letters of your travels, so that I may see the world through your eyes. Even if you do not leave the continent, please still travel for me, so that through you, I can hope to recapture what I've lost, before old age takes that from me in my final moments."

The typed letters on the simple yellowed stationary had been the only thing that inspired motivation from him, not even the electronic mails and rare letters from the friends of his childhood he had since grown distant from, and had lost hope of a reunion with.

The letter brought him hope.

Wallace made sure to hand-write the letter of positive response to his uncle, personally paying for the postage to send it by the fastest and most reliable overnight mail courier service he could afford. Within two days' time, a reply was received, with credit cards and instructions.

_"Travel as far as you want, and remember, home is always in your memory. Your memory is in your heart."_

The words puzzled the blonde, and even more so when a series of luggage tags arrived the day following the arrival of the cards, each with the words engraved in simple print on stainless steel attached to the expensive leather. The luggage tags were attached to equally pricey luggage.

_Summer Memory is not in my heart. More like it's in the pit of my stomach._

Wallace frowned again at the thought and merely watched his partners play. Tomorrow would be the start of his travels.

Tonight was for the three of them alone.

Eyes slid shut, mind anticipating the warmth of snuggling close to the tired bodies of his partners for the final time that evening, when Wallace suddenly found his rear end painfully connecting with the water-sealed wooden floor of the porch.

"No frowning, Wallace!" Terriermon nearly squealed as his human partner picked both him and his twin up into a massive bear hug. "EEEEEEEEEEE!!"

"I was frowning because I'll miss you both." It was true that he'd miss them, but neither of them needed the worries that surrounded past memories.

"We'll miss you too!" Lopmon snuggled his face into Wallace's shoulder, bringing a smile to the young man's lips. The little Digimon tried extra hard to make up for the years of pain he inadvertently caused his friend.

"I love you guys." The admission was heartfelt, as was the smothering response of two Digimon snuggling into the embrace of the human who adored them.

"We love you too, Wa-ra-ssu!" The Japanese pronunciation of his name brought forth laughter. His partners had lost none of their accent, though the two had eventually developed a functional grasp of the English language, for the sake of Wallace's confused mother.

_Mother. Holy shit. She's going to call my cell phone every day, I bet._ The thought lasted though the entirety of dinner, confirmed by the request of his mother to "keep in touch", and to "write often". Even so, it would likely be the last his mother saw of him for a few years, at least. Allowing the contact was the smallest thing he could do for her in his absence.

Evening consisted of emulating pop stars of the past with a rather inexpensive karaoke machine Wallace had been presented at his fourteenth birthday. This occasion would not be spoiled. Even Ms. Ford did not peek her head in to interrupt the trio as they sang to the crowd of flowers cheering them from the wallpaper.

_"So why don't you use it? Try not to bruise it. Buy time; don't lose it.  
Why don't you use it? Try not to bruise it. Buy time; don't lose it._

The reflex is a lonely child. He's waiting in the park.  
The reflex is in charge of finding a treasure in the dark.  
And watching over lucky clover; Isn't that bizarre?  
Every little thing the reflex does leaves you answered with a question mark."

"Karaoke Night" had not been a part of the nightly ritual for nearly two years prior to that particular evening, though it was the perfect occasion. It would be a pleasant memory of home, and the best expression of love the twins could show their partner, by sharing pure joy, and a loss of self in one moment.

The three fell into dreams to the wordless music pouring out of the karaoke device. The feel of the blanket went unnoticed when the elder Ford draped it around the slumbering trio, nor was the absence of light as she turned the switch as the Partners slept peacefully.

**End Prologue.**


	3. Vieux Carre'

**Peregrine**  
Chapter One  
_Vieux Carre'_

****

**Vieux Carre':** _n._  
1. French, meaning "Old Square"  
2. The French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana

****

_"There is a house in New Orleans  
They call 'The Rising Sun'.   
Its been the ruin of many a poor girl   
And me, oh God, I'm one." _

The song played softly from the headphones wrapped through long blonde hair, from a compact disc purchased in a train stop earlier in his journey, in Charlotte, North Carolina. The sunshine and beaches there had not appealed to him, and a destination remained elusive until he saw the disc "Sounds of the South", featuring a scene of The French Quarter, packed on a weekend night full of tourists.

Perhaps it wasn't the promise of the bustling crowd, or the chance for the promised "endless party" a flyer mentioned, but the ancient qualities the buildings suggested. The stone and brick, decorated with wrought iron ivy across the rails of the upper stories were calm, despite the chaos beneath them. Even the greenery resting on the balconies, whether small trees or tropical flowers, seemed unaffected by the suggestion of revelry and noise below.

_New Orleans._

He smiled, barely noting the name of the coastal town the train stopped in as it was announced. Wallace Ford picked his backpack from the storage rack it had been attached to, and stepped carefully into the aisle, dodging toddlers chased by concerned parents.

"Again, make sure your passes are available for luggage claim." The female voice interrupted the stray voices of the travelers. "Welcome to Mobile, Alabama. Enjoy your stay!"

Wallace disembarked, easily picking his way through the crowded terminal, pausing on brief occasion to watch loved ones greet each other with the appropriate hugs and kisses and kind words. His thoughts went to his mother, and immediately to the two greatest friends of his life, his twin Digital Partners, Terriermon and Lopmon.

_They should be here to see this, but I'm sure they're living it up in the Digital World._

The mental image of the two romping through fields of golden flowers brought another smile to his face, a memory forming.

_The wind carried a warm bite to it, but Wallace didn't notice. He ran through the field, chased by his Partners in an endless game of Catch. He paused as the wind turned a sudden bitter cold, glancing around through strands of blonde covering his eyes._

"Lopmon?"

The smile was gone, and the traveler turned his attention towards the stairs leading to the aqua shaded glass structure, framed in white. The Convention Center, while impressive to behold, was an ill-fitting addition to the downtown sector of the city, still graced by buildings standing since the early 1800's, to the original City Hall turned museum down the road, to the old Press Register building, being renovated for use as a new facility.

Wallace took all of this in as he walked aimlessly down the city blocks, taking pictures where the light was good, recording bits where the horns of cars were the most quiet. It was one particular place he seemed drawn to, a small cemetery behind the pale walls of the Downtown Public Library. The Church Street Cemetery stood, gates open, to invite visitors too young to know those who left their physical remains behind.

"Wow. Died at five years old, from Yellow Fever. Poor kid." He sat on the cracked stone bench, the corners of his mouth turning in the ghost of a frown.

"So, you talk to the dead very often?"

Wallace spun around, to be greeted by a girl his own age, dressed in wide-legged black pants, a black tank top adorned with a silver zipper up the front center, and rather large leather platform boots, also in black. She grinned at him, her face unnaturally pale under the white cosmetics she used.

"No, not often. They usually don't talk back," he replied calmly.

"Damn shame. I think they'd have plenty of good stories to share, don't you?" She extended her hand. "Name's Sera Le Noir. Yours, stranger?"

"Wallace. Wallace Ford. I'm visiting from New York." He peered at the odd girl cautiously.

"That much's obvious. You don't sound hick enough to be from a near state. Trust me. If you're from the area, you can tell who's from where. I'm from New Orleans, myself."

The blonde noted the change in expression behind the long threads of dyed black hair covering the violet eyes. He found himself wondering if the color was due to contacts, or natural, before chastising himself for moving too far. After all, she was a stranger, still.

"Hey Blondie. Come get coffee with me."

Sera took the traveler by the hand and pulled him off out of the solitude of the cemetery, and down the road a few blocked to the Krispy Kreme, one of the few still open in the country, and one of the earliest constructed. Wallace found himself treating his new friend to custard-filled sweetness and bitter day-old coffee, sweetened with much cream and sugar.

"Wow, you have Digital Partners too? I have one, but I sent him back, to keep him safe from my dad." With every mention of her sire, Wallace found himself increasingly concerned for the gothling beside him. From her consistent chatter he learned that she lived in a small apartment in a shadier area of the downtown region, having left New Orleans because of her father. Contact between her and her mother was nonexistent, as the suspected brute of a parent likely destroyed any correspondence between the two.

"I'm trying to save some money to go see my mom. She loved my Partner, ya know. Labramon had to leave because my dad didn't like him, the ol' bastard." The young woman gulped the last of her coffee. "I wanna see if I can find mom, if I get back there."

It only took a moment for him to decide.

"I'm heading to New Orleans. Why don't you come with me, my treat?"

In the next instant, he found cotton-clad arms around his neck, warm lips on his cheek. "I love you!! Thank you!!"

She backed away, returning to her seat with a snicker in response to Wallace's flushed cheeks. "Well, not in _that_ way. I'm not that kind of girl, all rumors to the contrary.

"Should I be cursing my luck then?" He reached out with slender digits to move the stray hairs that covered the eyes shining before him.

"Oh, you are good." Sera grinned. "Keep it up, and you might not be cursing your luck. Then again," she paused, lips curling upward slightly, teeth showing in a predatory smirk, "You might after all. Depends on what you're into."

"I think you're moving somewhere that might not be good. What I have to propose is a working relationship." Wallace sat back on his stool, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm going to pay you to be my guide in New Orleans. I'll pay for your needs while we're together, and if you want to come back here when I leave, I'll pay your way back."

The response was a simple shrug. "Sure, sure. I got ya, Blondie." Her eyes took a spark of amusement. "Or should I call you 'Boss'?"

"You can call me Wallace, since that's my name." The remaineder of his doughnut was consumed, washed down by the room temperature coffee. "Do you know what the good hotels are around here?"

"Um, there's the Hilton, or if you have money to blow, there's Adam's Mark or Radisson Admiral Semmes. They're pricey, especially if you get penthouses, but that goes without saying." Sera licked the center from her custard doughnut, elbows resting on the countertop.

"Then I'll book us at Adam's Mark." A cellular phone was produced; the number for information promptly dialed afterwards. The arrangements were quickly made, much to the surprise and delight of Wallace's new friend.

"That's gonna cost you an arm and a leg, ya know?! You can stay at my place!" Sera's hand rose to her mouth instinctively.

"I don't want to intrude, and from what I gather, you could probably use a stay elsewhere, right?" Icy eyes narrowed slightly at the ducking of the girl's head in response. "Then it's settled."

Despite her protests that the hotel was too expensive, or that she couldn't possibly accept such hospitality, Sera met Wallace at the specified location, in the lobby of the Adam's Mark hotel. All it took to reach the final destination was a short walk and an elevator ride to one of the upper stories, a room with two beds, and an accommodating bathroom.

Wallace immediately made his way to the shower, to wash away the weariness that joined him on his journey. Steaming water fell over his bare flesh as he spread the complementary shower gel across himself, reflecting on the letter from his uncle. There were several passages that struck him as odd. Pale sky blue soon was covered as he closed his eyes, bringing those words to the fore.

_"As you read this, please keep in mind that I have your best interests at heart. In doing so, you give life to what might have lost that spark. There is a small fire, deep in the darkness, that you can kindle into a roaring fire, by following this path I have opened to you. Make sure that you succeed!"_

The words bounced around his mind as a solitary thought, with nothing to interrupt the flow of emotions it brought.

_'Small fire, deep in the darkness'? What does he mean? Gotta be something philosophical. Bleh._

Once he was sufficiently rid himself of all suds and remaining dirt, he stepped from the shower, toweling his dripping hair cautiously to avoid tangles. He released an exclamation of relief under his breath at the fact that his clothes had not fallen off of the toilet seat into any piles of water that might have condensed on the tile floor.

The mere seconds it took to slide the white cotton briefs over his damp rear were enough to have Wallace lapsed back into deep thought. He regarded himself in the mirror, color drained from pale flesh by the florescent lighting masked by plastic in some elongated floral shape. The only color to be strikingly reflected at him was the same brilliant cornflower he used to review his features. His blonde hair had darkened none since his youth, and reflected a near-platinum under the harsh illumination as it fell to his shoulders.

_Fire. Darkness. Damn! Maybe she'll show me something I can send back to my uncle, once we hit New Orleans._

There was the other thought that disturbed him, but he pushed it aside. Why doubt the man paying for him to travel the world, after all?

Wallace emerged from the steam-filled bathroom fully clothed, and refreshed. Darkness permeated the area, save for the severe glow of a laptop computer highlighting the features of his guest. The monochrome illusion about her carried a surrealism that blocked the observer from creating any noise to disturb Sera as she typed. The shadows poured behind her in the form of torn and tattered wings; light reflected from the shiny black tresses formed a halo around her crown.

He wasn't annoyed that Sera took it upon herself to hook up his laptop, only curious that she apparently seemed to be using it with a degree of skill he hadn't seen outside of a computer programmer. The approach was silent and slow, until he stepped on a fallen sheet of stationary.

The crunch of the footfall on paper had Sera pivoting on the seat, windows immediately closed with the pressing of a simple function key. She rose fluidly to greet Wallace, slender fingers wrapping around his wrists.

"I was checking the bus times, unless you want to take the train." She smiled sweetly. "You know, I never did properly thank you."

Her advance was stopped by the simple pressing of Wallace's finger to her lips.

"You've thanked me enough. You don't owe me anymore, not unless you mean it." He pulled away with a shake of his head. "Good night, Sera."

Wallace did not stay alone under the covers for very long before he found a figure insisting on being held. "Of course I don't mean it. That doesn't mean I don't want it anyway," cooed the low female voice. The young man flinched, even as warm lips touched his.

_Great. This time I'm the one on the other end._ He gently pushed Sera away.

"No. We've just met today, and I'm not going to use you just because you're here." Gentle fingers brushed the black hair away from Sera's cheek. "I think you're used to expecting that, aren't you?"

Surprise was not the expression the traveler expected to see on his new associate's face, yet it was surprise that answered him.

"I....kinda," she replied, backing away to sit. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just thought....you're right, I guess I do expect it." Wallace's hand rest on her shoulder, which she brushed off. "No, don't do that....just....I dunno. Good night, Wallace."

He regarded her as the figure retreated for the opposing bed.

"Good night, Sera."

Morning found Wallace waking to the sounds of the shower pouring from the bathroom. He pried himself from his languorous state to greet the sunlight streaming in broken fragments through the eggshell blinds.

The wait for the bathroom to practice his morning hygienic ritual was relatively short, and after packing and a brief breakfast, the duo found themselves on a chartered shuttle towards New Orleans. Sera chatted amicably about various historic and cultural locations, from the casinos in Biloxi and Gulfport, Mississippi to comments on the view of Lake Pontchartrain.

The driver left the pair in front of the world famous Cafe du' Monde. It was with great enthusiasm that Sera sat Wallace down for his first beignet and tall glass of iced chicory coffee. The pasty itself was nothing more than a puffed square of dough, nearly hollow in the center, and covered with a grand quantity of powdered sugar. The coffee that accompanied it had a warm flavor, strongly infused of the roasted root brewed with the ground coffee beans. The sugar combined with caffeine did wonders for shaking the road-weariness of the two hour drive from the travelers.

"I need to find the computer that has my family records on it, so I can get the proof I need and lock that asshole up." Sera made the comment.

"Hey, now. Watch the language. This is holy ground, you know." Wallace grinned at her, gesturing towards the St. Louis Cathedral across the distance of Jackson Square. The two walked slowly, the man's arm held firmly by the darkly clothed teen. Wrought iron separated the park at the innermost part of the square from the peddlers alongside of it, offering portraits or tarot readings for donations in the sum of ten to twenty dollars.

"See there, to the left of the Cathedral?" A slender arm reached in the direction of the alabaster construction, past its four stories, to the immediate left. "That's the _Cabildo_, where the Spanish Council met, way back when. It was the City Hall, and now it's a museum. Napoleon's death mask is there, too. I should show you, when our business is done." She pulled the blonde's attention to the opposite side she originally indicated. "There, on the right. That's the _Presbytere_, where the priests lived. Now it's part of the Louisiana State Museum Complex.....what are you doing? Haha, such a tourist!"

Wallace made a face at the girl, even as he videotaped her. "Hey, I'm paying. I'm entitled to be touristy if I want."

"Indeed you are, good sir." The raven ponytail flipped over Sera's head as she made a show of bowing to her employer. "So, where else do you want to go?"

"Well, you wanted to find your mother? You said your family records were on a computer in town, right?"

"Yeah, there's a database, but I think I need to find my old house first. I just wanna make sure they're still around, ya know?" 

Wallace nodded once, offering his hand. "Well, lead the way."

"It's on Conti, near Burgundy. We'll have to pass through Bourbon Street to get there, so hang close to me." Sera took a tight grip on the offered extension, fingers twining with his. With her free hand, she indicated a location across the Square. "That's Jax Brewery. We'll go up that way, into the French Quarter."

The afternoon was already turning into nightfall after stopping for a snack on Chantres, before the duo continued the trek through the French Quarter. Wallace felt inclined to stop multiple time to video tape the upper floors of the buildings, with the wrought iron railings he recalled admiring on the cover of the compact disc purchased the day before. It was exactly as the cover portrayed, with the ivy creeping along the ironwork, smaller trees framing the open windows.

"Hey, you're staring at plants!" Jet hair swished behind the girl as she laughed, her voice carrying insincere mockery.

"No, that's why I wanted to come here. They're peaceful, you know." Wallace turned his attention from his companion to the greenery once more. "They're above all the chaos below, and they're not alone. They have each other."

"Humans are solitary creatures." Amethyst eyes watched the male through dark lashes. "They seek companionship, but they all die alone. There's that one brief moment when one is bound to the other, but it never lasts." Wallace stiffened at the pressing of the warm figure to his back, arms sliding around. "Silly creatures. You know it as well as I do. This is what it is to be human. You hide behind pretense and personality, pretending to be anything but yourself, because that is what society tells you to be." She let go suddenly, as though caught in the act of murder.

"Sera....? It's not like that at all. True, there are rules, and yes, we restrain ourselves for the sake of those rules, but that doesn't mean there is a constant barrier. The barrier breaks when one person understand the other completely." With one reaching grasp, he held her slender palm against his once more, digits crossing with his companion's. "Now let's go find your folks, okay?"

The female made no response of agreement or disagreement, only tightened her hold on her friend's hand and led him farther down Chantres, taking a turn on Toulousse, past Royal Street, and on to Bourbon Street, where the crowd of tourist revellers had only started to gather. The hands remained tightly joined, to avoid being separated by the growing crowd, already lively as the alcohol flowed freely.

In only two blocks' distance, Conti was approached, and the travelers turned towards the right, heading down a few blocks until they were less than three houses from Burgundy. Sera disentangled her hand from Wallace's, approaching one boarded door.

"No one live 'dere, cherie." An elderly lady spoke from her upper story. "I seen what happen t'them tho. Ya'll wait dere a sec."

Sera stood a few feet away from the door, approaching the elderly Creole lady who took a seat on the neighboring front doorstep. "You saw what happened to the family?"

"'Course. I seen everyt'ing happen here. The man, he was a real bastard, he was. Beat his lady to where she was bleedin' bad. Hah, but she have de life in her still. Shot him in the head, for what he done to her and to they little girl." The woman shook her head. "My my....lil' chile much better, away from him, tho it's so sad. Cryin' shame, really."

"Ah...." Strong arms pulled her backwards, to steady the shaking Sera didn't notice creeping into her posture. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You know de family, chile? You look familiar...." The neighbor removed her glasses to clean them.

"I knew them. No, you've never seen me, but thank you. Wallace, let's go back to the Square, okay?" She did not wait for his assent, only turned and fled, feet carrying her at a fast walking pace.

"Hey, wait up, Sera!" Wallace chased her down, pulling her back into his embrace. "No, you're going to stop. Shh." He held the shaking figure close. "Does it upset you that badly? He can't hurt you now."

"She didn't remember me. I don't know what I was thinking, looking for remnants of a life I've never lived...." Broken words were mumbled into the Ford's shoulder, the terms barely understood, where the meaning was not at all. "I need to get into that house, Wallace!" Her tear-streaked face turned to him, wide-eyed. "I mean....it's not important. Come on, let's go get a drink."

All the young wanderer could do was nod and follow his guide back towards Bourbon Street, apologizing to a Hispanic tourist as he pushed into her. Sera was a few feet ahead, which prevented him from making his usual comments as he normally would to a beautiful young woman, or man if he felt so inclined. In this case, he could only spare the attention for one individual.

_She's confusing. What could be in that house that hasn't already been cleaned out?_ Wallace mused to himself, watching Sera with caution. So intent he was on watching her, he did not notice the grey suited figure grab him and pull him into the alley leading to one of the souvenier shops.

"You will remain still if you wish to live. Why are you assisting a known virus-type?" Wallace looked directly into mirrored sunglasses. The figure was a man of an undetermined age, skin an unnaturally pale shade. Perhaps it was the dim light, but Wallace was positive his captor's skin was a shade of blue, like the blue-white pallor associated with the deceased.

"What? You mean Sera? Virus-type?" The confusion evident in the sky-hued gaze was enough to cause the pale figure to release his hold.

"Sera. A clever name. She never told you what it was short for, did she?" The man continued as Wallace shook his head to indicate that Sera had indeed not revealed that portion of her name. "Sera. Seraphine, as in referring to angels. 'Le Noir' means "The Black". Black Angel."

Another figure, clad in the identical slate grey suit, appeared in the alley. "I've lost her. I think she's going after the the First Key, sir." He flinched at the expletive uttered by his partner.

"Are you saying that Sera used me to get to New Orleans?" Wallace stood slowly, eyeing the two.

"She was programmed only with a detailed map of Vieux Carre', the French Quarter here in New Orleans. When she appeared in Mobile, Alabama, she was left clueless on how to find her way here. You, being one Chosen," The figure reached to touch the older Digivice at Wallace's hip, "Would be the only one her programming would allow to remove her from the area she spawned in. We waited here for her, and now you've brought her to us. Well done."

"What is this 'First Key'?" Wallace tucked a stray section of blonde back behind one ear. "Why do you want it so badly?"

Both men twitched, eyeing each other. "We can't tell you. No one can tell you. Just know that whoever holds all of the keys also holds a very dangerous weapon."

"Then we need to stop her!" The young man pushed past the two, and through the crowd of tourists to cross Bourbon Street, heading back to Conti, the agents at his heels. He made it as far as the house where the elderly Creole woman lived, only to find her laying on the doorstep, a burned scar across her throat and jawline.

_Sera....did you kill her?_ The formerly boarded door stood wide open, almost inviting the determined hunter to enter. Wallace stepped inside, sneakers creating a soft echo on the hardwood floors beneath them with every footfall. Above, from the stairwell, a faint light flowed down into the darkness saturating the bottom floor.

Step by step, he slowly worked his way upwards to the top floor, the unfriendly light growing bolder as he approached. Around the corner on the inside balcony, a ladder extended into the attic floor.

For Wallace, there was no hesitation. He climbed upwards, greeted by the sight of Sera standing before a lit monitor.

"Wallace, you came! You need to send me to the Digital World. I can't open the portal by myself!" She ran to him, taking his hands.

"Why not? You have a Digivice, don't you?" A faint smirk touched his lips. "Unless those creeps were right. You're not human, are you....?"

"No, I'm not. Listen, you can't trust them. They want the Keys for their Master. They killed that old....move!" The girl pushed Wallace to the ground, a tentacle wrapped around her neck.

Wallace turned towards the source. The appendage came from the blue figure, eyes glowing from behind the reflective surface of his sunglasses. "Thanks, kid. You led us right to the Key. Pretty smart of the old Guardian, to hide them inside Digimon and send them here." He sneered in Wallace's direction. "LadyDevimon here will be coming with us. You're going to die here, worthless human."

"Go...to HELL!" The girl spat the words out from behind her friend, venom laced with anger in her voice.

A leathery red-tipped claw shot past Wallace, towards Sera's attacker. The tentacles disengaged, as the suited figure merely pushed his partner in the way. The shocked man merely dissolved into dust as the clawed fingers punctured his torso.

"You missed." Blue flesh slid to a grey tone, elongating as the form began to tear through the fabric of the suit.

"Not this time, Dragomon...." The transformation was interrupted as that clawed hand imbedded itself in the tentacled attacker's forehead, tearing gashes down from skull to chest. Fluid seeped from the wounds, splattering the area as the claws were removed

"Impossible....I was assured that....I'd lose nothing in the....process." The monsterous figure fell to his knees, also dissolving into dust the way his associate had moments earlier.

"You were lied to. We all were." Sera crashed to the dusty floor, her form slowly growing and filling out to a more mature shape, the jet color of her hair replaced by a rich silver shade.

Wallace scurried to her side quickly, dropping to pull the now leather-masked head to his lap.

"It's true. You are what he said you were." He looked to the glowing red behind the eyeholes cut into the mask. "Why would you save me? From what the others told me in email, you worked for the bad guys."

"Appearances are deceiving. Programming can be changed. People can change." One leather wrapped hand reached to gently touch the smooth skin on the young man's face. "I had a Partner once, but she's dead now. Her responsibility falls to you. Protect the Keys. Make sure the Fire isn't consumed by Darkness."

"What is the Fire in the Darkness? I don't understand? What Key?!" Wallace held the hand to his cheek. "Why was I chosen for this? The others have more experience than I do."

"The City of Sin is where to find the next....." The words were silenced with a dissolution into dust, scattered into the nothingness it was created from.

Floating before Wallace was a glowing keycard, the code covering it glowing for a second before the item fell into the blonde's waiting hand. A shrill note rose firm the device at his hip, growing louder as Wallace removed it. With a sudden burning burst of light, the coded Key attached itself to the Digivice, causing the item to change form, until it took a shape he had only seen in the possession of a few others.

_A D-3. It's like Daisuke's._

The remaineder of the evening was a blur; the hours spent until the wee hours of the morning were at the boardwalk overlooking the Mississippi River near Jackson Square. Tugboats and other various vessels waited at silent docks, as the water remained undisturbed but for the occasional ocean breeze.

Wallace mused over the events of the evening. Only one thought occurred to him, as he made his decision.

_I will find the next Key, and the Fire in the Darkness._

The determination finally allowed him peace of mind enough to find a suitable hotel to finally allow himself to rest. In no way could he have known his actions were being carefully monitored.

"He's the one. I saw the First Key merge with his Digivice. Do we take the Key now, or allow him to find the others?" Binoculars lowered from sable eyes, turning towards her commander.

"We'll let him do the work for us. Prepare the watch, so that we can know the moment he leaves town." The spectacled individual did not look away from his laptop monitor, only added notes to his work.

"Aye, sir. As you command." The female officer turned towards her right, where her own laptop awaited, to type in the command given to her. "All is in readiness, sir. The Beta Team awaits your future orders."

"Very good." The older commander regarded his younger inferior. It had only been a year that she was rescued from the attack that left her orphaned. Within that year, she had become a capable agent, firmly believing that the course of action would benefit both worlds she was chosen to protect. His charge never complained about missing her hometown in Mexico, though it would be evident, when it was mentioned.

"Sir? Am I forgetting anything?" Her faintly accented words carried a touch of concern.

"No, everything is fine. You're doing well." The older man closed his laptop with a light click.

"Very well, sir. Shall we call it a night?" It was all that indicated she was tired from chasing the Ford boy and the strays that evening.

"Yes, set up the night watch, and go get some rest." The commander stood after setting his computer back into the convenient carrying case, slipping the strap across his wide shoulders. "You've earned it, Rosa."

**End Chapter One.**


	4. Gamble

**Peregrine**  
Chapter Two  
_Gamble_

****

**Gamble** _v. intr._  
1. a. To bet on an uncertain outcome, as of a contest. b.To play a game of chance for stakes.   
2. To take a risk in the hope of gaining an advantage or a benefit.   
3. To engage in reckless or hazardous behavior.   


****

_"Viva Las Vegas with the neon flashin'   
And the walls crashin'  
All those hopes down the drain   
Viva Las Vegas turnin' day into nighttime   
Turnin' night into daytime   
If you see it once   
You'll never be the same again"_

The pre-purchased headphones were quickly removed from the ears they covered. The listener smirked to himself, exhaling in a derisive snort.

_How cheesy. I'm flying into Las Vegas, and they play covers of Elvis tunes. Perfect. I can't believe I paid five dollars for this crap._

A wrinkled hand fell onto the traveler's shoulder with intent to comfort.

"There, young'un. Don't fret. I've flown all over these States, and never crashed once." The elderly lady smiled sweetly, apparently missing the intent of her row mate's expression. "What's your name? I'm Beverly Jones."

"Wallace, ma'am. Wallace Ford." He moved a bit of blonde from his eyes. "I'm okay now, thanks. I think I'll take a nap. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Jones." He excused himself, relieved when his neighbor did not press for more conversation.

He removed his own walkman, sliding in one of the discs from his personal collection, a compilation of songs that held personal significance to him from his own experiences and of his old acquaintances. With a press of a button, the device was set to shuffle the tracks, even though Wallace realized his mind would expect the next track in the sequence he determined when the disc was recorded.

Eyelids fell as though they were composed of lead rather than flesh. The memory of the events preceding the current flight rose unbidden to claim precedence over more pleasant thoughts.

_Sera. LadyDevimon. How was I supposed to know? She looked....felt....human._

A faint sigh escaped as Wallace shifted uncomfortably in his reclined seat. He pondered that first meeting.

_"So, you talk to the dead very often?"_

"No, not often. They usually don't talk back."

"Damn shame. I think they'd have plenty of good stories to share, don't you?"

What stories did she have to share? The question floated through the waves of recollection.

That he was being watched and followed was certain, but who could possibly be the Polonius in this act, spying on him from the other side of the tapestry as he sought to bring the situation to the best resolution? Would he end up destroying the spy as Hamlet did, or would there be a Ghost to guide his actions, as there was with Hamlet as he dealt with his wayward mother.

_Great. Am I in such a tragic situation that I'm using Shakespeare to give it meaning? If I don't watch myself, I might start spouting off in prose. That might almost be funny._

The urge to laugh was strong, yet he held it back to prevent further attention from the aged cohabitant of row twenty-one. Instead, he mumbled to himself as though releasing bits of a dream-spawned conversation. With a lazy shift in position, he was soon facing the oval portal, the glass separating him from the dramatically different pressure outside.

_"Impossible....I was assured that....I'd lose nothing in the....process."_

"You were lied to. We all were." 

_Lied to? About what?_ Wallace mused over the events again, especially the final words of the apparently reprogrammed LadyDevimon before she dissolved to dust in his arms.

_"Appearances are deceiving. Programming can be changed. People can change. I had a Partner once, but she's dead now. Her responsibility falls to you. Protect the Keys. Make sure the Fire isn't consumed by Darkness."_

"What is the Fire in the Darkness? I don't understand? What Key?! Why was I chosen for this? The others have more experience than I do."

"The City of Sin is where to find the next....." 

There was no mistake what the "City of Sin" was. Hadn't his mother constantly referred to Las Vegas, Nevada as "Sin City"? It was the only place in his retained knowledge that the nickname had been use as a reference.

Wallace sighed again. What was the purpose of this mission? Why had he been chosen for it? The questions would only be answered by seeing it to the end, only he could not help but want to know why it was _him_ who had been chosen, and not one of the more qualified Japanese counterparts?

_Maybe they've done their duty. Maybe they're already involved. Maybe this, maybe that. I'm going to have to eventually bring Terriermon and Lopmon into this. So much for their vacation in the Digital World._

The weary traveler eventually did fall into slumber, unaware that those unknown individuals he feared were spying on him also taking up occupancy on the same flight. A slender teenaged female, no more than fourteen in apparent age stepped past the row on her way from the restroom, eyes shifting briefly to glance at the sleeping blonde in the window seat. She smiled sweetly to the elderly woman seated next to Wallace, demurely tucking a stray auburn lock behind her ear as she continued onwards towards the front of the craft.

"How is the subject, Rosa?" The voice of her commander was barely above a whisper, yet perfectly audible to her well-trained ears.

"Asleep, and will likely remain so until we land." She picked her laptop off of the aisle seat before settling down. A few moments of typing pulled up a series of programs. "The others have found nothing so far, sir." Rosa turned to smile at her superior, her soft voice carrying the accent of her native tongue as she flawlessly shifted to Spanish. "El Japoneses Elegidos no tienen ningún conocimiento de esto."

"Muy bueno, Rosa." The older man leaned over to peer at the girl's monitor. "El otro Elegido?"

Rosa shook her head slowly. "Nada." She blinked in surprise as her commander muttered an expletive under his breath. "Sir?"

"Put that away for now, and get some rest. You'll need it when we land." He glanced away, towards the clouds below.

"Sí." With the simply reply, Rosa did as she was commanded, settling back into the cushions of the airline seat. In mere moments her breathing became slower, a peaceful expression replacing the seriousness she wore since the moment she witnessed her parents' demise, until the dream began.

_It had been hours since she last saw light. Even the humidity of the coastal region could not find its way into the pile of rubble her mother's body protected her from. The girl could see that her mother would not last._

"Rosa," the woman gasped, using the hebetic female's birth name, before the more affectionate nickname. "Poco, Promesa. Usted debe vivir."

"Madre! No! Seremos juntos!" Slender arms were pinned between her body and her mothers, preventing her from wiping the saline liquid that fell from the woman's eyes to her own cheeks. "Madre!"

The tears were only residual. The woman was already dead.

Rosa shifted, the fragile peace of mind restored as her memory-induced nightmare passed on in favor of sweeter imaginings.

The superior glanced towards the youth. Any affection present in those earth-hued orbs vanished once the girl's nightmare began, and did not return even as the dream vacated the sleeper's unconscious mind.

_Don't worry, child. You'll have your place once the Keys are in my possession. You won't feel that loneliness any more, I promise you._

The remainder of the flight went without incident other than mild turbulence, and the aircraft landed safely at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, Nevada. Wallace waited until the rows ahead cleared of travelers and luggage before venturing onto the covered walkway leading into the terminal. A flurry of sounds assaulted his auditory senses, with the musical chimes of various slot machines' jingles set to the percussion of the levers used to activate them. Occasionally the sound would be joined by the rhythm of quarters on stainless steel and a shout from those fortunate enough to beat the odds. To the optical senses, the area was nothing extraordinary, save for the presence of the slot machines, and the individuals mindlessly sliding coins into metal slots in hopes that Lady Luck would smile on them.

Wallace most assuredly did not wish to focus on the rising stench from the smoking lounge. He wrinkled his nose as he made his way in the direction the sign overhead indicated.

_Noooo. I won't need sinus medicine when I get to the desert. Noooo. There's no nasty blooming flowers to make me sneeze. Noooo. Just cigarette smoke in the damned airport. I thought it was illegal. UGH._

The traveler made it to the monorail stop in time for the shuttle to arrive, depositing those with the intent to leave the city there once the doors opened. Wallace waited patiently for his opportunity to board, doing so once the last passenger lugged the suitcase barrier away to clear path leading inside.

The monorail itself was an interesting vehicle, reminding Wallace of a shrunken bullet train like the ones Daisuke had told him of in various emails. Only two cars in length, it could easily accommodate thirty or so persons without leaving them smashed together like sardines, the neutral tones of rusty brown and beige adorning the walls and floor. A singular rail directed the cars towards the terminal exit, balanced perfectly despite the shifting of the travel-weary occupants. Another cart approached from the opposite direction on a line of its own, mirroring that which the young Ford rode in.

An exit was swiftly and efficiently made once the monorail train stopped, bringing Wallace within clear sight of the escalator leading down. Only after single momentary pause to brush stray gold from his immediate field of view did he move forward, stepping onto the dusty cycle of rubber and metal that transported him downstairs into the luggage claim area.

"Oh damn."

Wallace was not aware the words were spoken out loud, as he stood gaping at the virtual arena labeled "Luggage Claim" by various signs posted about the region. Brightly lit advertisements promised escape to an alternate reality of blue men, or white tigers attended to by ageless tamers, set to overlapping sounds of opera and trance. A rainbow of electronically generated hues greeted the young man in the form of a monitor easily as tall as the home he abandoned in favor of his quest, advising him that he could still make reservations for a seat at King Arthur's Dinner Theater at the Excalibur Hotel and Casino. 

"You are attempting to enter an exit only area," a pre-recorded voice announced. "Please move away from the escalator once you have departed, or Airport Security will be alerted."

This was all Wallace needed to break his fixation on that monstrosity of advertisement, and he set a steady pace past the line of bored chauffeurs holding name placards and tourists eagerly searching through the luggage as it orbited a central pillar on a conveyor belt. He turned with a pivot, glancing back towards a pair he assumed to be a father and daughter.

_Have I seen her before?_ He felt certain she had her eyes trained on him at the moment of his about face. With a shake of the head, the Chosen continued on his path, mulling over those striking chocolate eyes and auburn braids.

_Wallace gave chase after Sera, just far enough behind that he could reach to touch the raven silk of her hair as it trailed behind her. So intent was he on catching up, that he didn't notice the Hispanic girl, no more than fourteen in appearance, as he crashed into her form. _

"Excuse me." The apology was rushed, though no less sincere as seconds passed where pale blue met deep brown....

"New Orleans," he muttered to himself. "It was New Orleans." Feet moved moderately faster, taking Wallace thicker into the crowd as he secretly prayed that the girl's appearance was merely a coincidence.

"Sir, he may be on to us," Rosa lamented. "I can scout ahead." She darted forward, only to be stopped by the larger hand on her willowy frame.

"No, Rosa. That will only alert him more. I think we may need to bring him to us." The superior looked towards his subordinate, taking the pause to brush his long chestnut ponytail behind his shoulders. "No, we'll wait for him to check in, and then register ourselves there. Once we're settled and he's relaxed, then we can use him to track down the next Digital Key."

"Understood, sir." A simple nod of the head punctuated the words.

"So serious, Rosa." The commander shook his head, making a faint "tch" noise with his teeth. "Don't rush into this. At present, Wallace Ford is no closer to holding the Keys than we are. He just has the advantage of a very powerful someone backing him. Remember what I told you? The data that composes the Digital World is fragmented and has corrupted regions. We need the Digital Keys to repair the damage. Now," he grinned once. "We have more immediate concerns, like where to buy dinner."

The girl simply nodded in response with a ghost smile, following the older man into the crowded foyer.

Wallace breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the cab at the shuttle station, assured that there was no way the odd Mexican girl could not follow him.

"Where to, kiddo?" The driver glanced back to the traveler, a trace of amusement ghosting the wrinkle-framed eyes.

"Eh, the Monte Carlo hotel, please." The force of gravity seemed focus upon the Ford's eyelids, plunging his world into temporary darkness.

"Don't fall asleep on me, kid. Monte Carlo, it is!" The white and maroon vehicle moved forward, curving from the length designated for the shuttles, limousines, and taxis towards the path indicated by a sign at the roadside. Wallace forced his eyes open, willing himself to an alertness he wished to deny.

The vehicle moved much too fast for him to make the greenery outside into anything other than a formless mass of malachite and emerald shades, occasionally laced with alabaster and wooden hues to represent the occasional flowering tree. The organic view gave way to the inorganic and more colorful assault of flashing lights and buildings adorned with mythical beasts, steel monsters, and animated attractions on backlit billboards. A glass pyramid labeled "Luxor" promised the experience of ancient Egypt, even as its neighbor attempted to assure potential patrons that a stay there would be kin to the fabled luxury of King Arthur's court.

_Excalibur. That's the one in that ad....oh holy crap, when did I get to New York?_ Preventing his jaw from falling into contact with the leather interior of the cab proved to be easier than stopping his eyes from going wide at the construction of the New York, New York Casino; a smile just as easily crept into his features. _Oh, I am so there!_

"Here we are, the famous Monte Carlo. Enjoy yer stay in Vegas, kid, and don't let them catch you gambling, or they'll boot ya to the street and call yer folks." The cabbie stopped the vehicle at the vividly lit covered driveway designated "taxi drop off" next to the lobby of the Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino. Wallace paid the driver the expected ten dollars for cab fare, plus a generous five dollar tip and a spoken word of gratitude, and he exited the vehicle, rushing to avoid the heated temperature and greet the air conditioned temperature inside.

To describe the main lobby of the hotel would be a definite understatement. The area was expansive, with a long front desk constructed of a dark wood, likely some variety of oak, resting on short carpet in curling patterns of gold and ivory on a deep crimson background. Regal pillars stood in various evenly measured lengths, and a table larger than even Wallace's family dining room table housed an equally large floral arrangement in violets and crimson, complementing the shades permeating the lobby.

Fighting back hesitation, Wallace approached one of those sections of that endless check-in desk, swiftly obtaining keycards and complementary buffet tickets. He was duly impressed at the efficiency of the red-tressed woman assisting him with his reservation.

"There you go, Mr. Ford. I trust you'll enjoy your stay?" She smiled mechanically as Wallace accepted the folded paper packet containing the essentials for his stay at the place. "Good. Thank you for choosing Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino. Bye bye now!" The artificial expression of kindness never left the attendant's face. "Next in line, please!"

Packet in hand, the weary young man moved down the hall past a bustling gift shop towards the elevator. The number on the packet was 1304. Floor Thirteen. Room Four.

"Lovely," he muttered to himself, pressing into the crowd on the "up" elevator after a significant delay.

While the wait for the car leading to his floor had been torturously slow, the ride itself took mere seconds. Wallace stepped into the circular foyer, peering at the signs that labeled the three hallways branched from that central area. Once assured of the correct area, he set down the hall to one of the early numbered rooms. Magnetically charged plastic was inserted into the thin slot over the doorknob, and swifty removed. With a faintly audible beep, a green light flashed, indicating the door would be unlocked long enough to turn the knob.

To say he was surprised by what greeted him in the room was an understatement. She was blonde, hair a few shades darker than his own and pulled into a loose bun, with eyes of a blue more attributed to the ocean depths. Seated on the bed with her was another female of an undetermined ethnic background, though Wallace assumed she was Asian, indicated by her features and skin tone. Her hair, however, was a most definite tawny color, and naturally so, unless she had one fantastic hairdresser to do her coloring.

"About time you showed up. Rena and I were getting bored waiting!" The blonde girl could have been no older than Wallace, he mused internally, as her companion seemed to be an equal age. "I'm Sari. The Creator guy-thing said you'd be here about this time, and here you are! 'Monsieur Butterfly' doesn't lie, does he?"

"Huh?" It was all the Ford could manage, looking from the enthusiastic expression of Sari to the more serious one of her friend, Rena. "Waiting for me? 'Monsieur Butterfly'? I just got my room key!" He deposited his backpack on the unused twin bed, and then himself, rather heavily. "Mind clearing this up for me?"

"It's quite simple, Chosen." Rena peered at him though the lengthy bangs that framed her calm face. "The Creator sent us to assist you in your mission to find the Digital Keys, and protect them."

"Creator? The Digital Keys? Oh lord." _I'd say I need a drink, except that no one here would sell it to me._ With a definite thud, Wallace fell heavily back onto his pillow.

"Rena, please! He just got in town. Let him rest up." Sari leaned across the bed, eyes on her new roommate. "Look, we were pulled into this a few months ago. It's because of what happened to us that the Creator guy knows what's going on."

"Don't tell me. One of you is a Digimon, and your name is short for something having to do with angels?" He groaned once, pulling the other pillow over his face.

"How did you know?" Sari blinked. "My name is short for Sariel. I'll tell you why, sometime, but not now." She rolled over, cheeks turning pink as blood rushed to her now upside-down head. "Renamon here is my Partner Digimon. Someone screwed with her programming and unlocked this form for her."

"We refer to it as Gijinka. It's a form that all of us were created with the ability to use, but the ability to reach it was locked away, to protect us." A slight smirk rose to the digital girl's face. "I was taken from Sari a few months ago. _They_ did this to me."

Wallace rolled over, pushing the pillow aside. "What? 'They' who? Can't you change back?"

Renamon nodded. "Of course I can change back, but it's not exactly easy. In the Human World, this form serves me and my Partner better. Of course, it's more vulnerable to attacks, but brings less attention to Sari." A faint sigh was released. "As for who 'they' are, that's what we're unsure of."

"Yeah, it sucks too," Sari piped in. "We were in the Digital World after Renamon came to me. These guys....I don't know, it was so fast, but they grabbed us both. They had her hooked up to this machine, saying they were unlocking her programming, or some bullshit like that. If it hadn't been that she escaped...." The words trailed off as Sariel rolled back to her stomach, placing her head on her Partner's knee.

"Shh, dear friend. It's over now. We're going to stop them." Dark eyes met Wallace's. "We never found out who they are. All we know is that they're after the Digital Keys that protect the Source."

"Source? Hn." The wanderer perched his head on one hand, bent elbow pressed into the mattress. "So this Creator person sent you guys to help me, because you were affected by the bad guys, right?" He supressed the urge to smirk. "Pardon the quote, but 'curiouser and curiouser' comes to mind."

"Yeah, like I said, it sucks." Her words were interrupted by her own loud yawn as Sariel sat up next to her partner. "So, you got those nifty free buffet tickets? I'm starving! Let's go eat! I hunt better after lots of coffee and good food."

_So much for letting me rest up._ Wallce could not hide the grin that rose at his new companion's excited nature. "So, all bound to get a massive sugar and caffeine high, then kick the ass of whoever is stupid enough to get in our way?"

"Oh, absolutely. We should probably get your Partner Digimon soon too. You're no doubt going to need them." Sari glanced to her own partner.

"That much is true." Sandy strands fell before the humanoid Digimon's face with her nod of agreement. "I can only see it getting harder from here."

"So let's eat then. We can't go off fighting evil on an empty stomach." Wallace stood, offer a hand to each of the females opposite him, one accepted by Sariel, the other rejected by the more independent Renamon.

The wait for a descending elevator was equal to the wait the youth previously experienced, but luckily the car was empty enough to allow the trio room to move and breathe. None said a word, however, though Wallace felt somewhat nervous under the studious gaze of Rena. Sari was apparently oblivious to this, reading over the list of treats that awaited her at the hotel's buffet with a grin plastered on her face that would make The Joker jealous.

Hordes of people already were piled in line by the time they arrived, and advanced at a snail's pace. The presence of the complementary meal tickets allowed them to bypass those who had to pay, and soon the three were seated, each with plates full of appetizing dinner foods.

"Damn, girl! You really must be hungry!" Wallace blinked in disbelief at the pile of burritos stacked on the other Chosen's plate, which she had already began tearing into at a wolfish pace.

"Mm-hm!" She swallowed hard, swallowing a long pull of juice to wash it down. "Beans are good for you! Protien!"

"If you say so. All I know is they make people fart." He smirked.

"Which is why Sari will be pulling up the rear when we go hunting," Renamon chimed in.

"You're picking on me! Renamon has an excuse, but you barely know me, you....poopy head." The blonde stuck her tongue out at Wallace, making a face. "Meanie!"

"Hey, now." Wallace leaned back in his chair. "Don't stick that out unless you intend on using it."

Even Renamon couldn't resist laughing as her partner turned a fascinating shade of cherry, nearly choking on her beverage.

"I think Mister Ford is trying to hit on you, Partner." The Gijinja Digimon's lip turned up at the corner. "The "smoove" is indeed strong in this one."

"Great, now _I'm_ the one getting picked on." Wallace shook his head in mock disbelief.

Teasing comments continued during the duration of the meal, even as none of the group noticed a man and his young ward watching them with great interest. When the small group left to begin the search, they followed at a discreet distance.

"The only clue we have to let us know where to look was 'river' and 'wide window', and the only thing I can think of is that weird boat ride in Luxor." Sariel frowned once, handing a list of casinos to Wallace to peruse.

The wanderer scrutinized the list, item by item, name by name. "Which of these would have something to do with a river?" He frowned, bottom lip curling into his mouth as his teeth impacted lightly on the flesh, until he paused on one name in particular. "The Rio. Rio is Spanish for river, isn't it?"

Rena and Sari exchanged glances. "Yeah, you're right! So let's get a taxi!" The girl bounced ahead, trailed by her partner and Wallace. The necessary arrangments for tranportation soon had the party at the front of The Rio Hotel and Casino.

"Oh GOD. Not again!" A groan escaped from the young man as he glanced around the casino floor. Surrounding him was a two level representation of French Quarter shops and buildings. "I just _left_ New Orleans! This place doesn't even do it justice!"

Past the various slot machines and gambling tables, a round bar provided drinks to people waiting for their number to be called for the rather expensive seafood buffet nearby. The questing trio slid past them towards the right, heading up the escalator to those false representations of French Quarter buildings.

"Well, Monsieur Butterly-person-thingie said it would be here. What happened with the First Key?" Sari poked Wallace's arm.

"I remember Sera....LadyDevimon was in front of a computer when I found her." He frowned at the memory. "But the Key was within her."

"They deleted her then. And in this world, deletion means permanent death for a Digimon." Renamon glanced away, a slight crack in her otherwise stoic facade. She pointedly refused to look at her human Partner.

"There's bunches of computers around here. How are we going to find the one that will show us where the Key is?" Hesitantly, Sariel merely placed her hand on her Digital Partner's shoulder, offering what encouragement she could.

"Computer...." Wallace came to a dead stop in front of the arcade directly past a turn in the long balcony. Before him was a game, Pump It Up, sporting a twin five panel dance pad and a widescreen monitor, currently in menu mode being serviced by an arcade tech. "Wide window. Dammit! Video games are computers too!"

"Oh! You're right, and this one has the widest friggin' monitor window I've EVER seen!" Sariel latched onto the hands of her Partner Digimon and the surprised Ford, pulling them into the arcade. "ExCUSE me!" With a push, she had the technician pushed aside. "Okay, Wallace! Open the friggin' port already!"

Before the game tech could rise from the floor to protest, Wallace held out his D-3, unsure of what to do, but following his instinct. Breath entered his lungs deeply, to be exhaled as the words were formed. "Show us where the next Digital Key is!"

"Rosa!" The male voice from behind had Wallace looking over his shoulder, in time to be tackled into the machine by the same Hispanic girl he had been avoiding since his arrival in Las Vegas earlier. In seconds, Sariel attempted to pull the attacker off of her companion, only to receive a deceptively strong right hook to her jaw, moments before the Gate opened, pulling the four of them to the Digital World, willingly or not.

Various body parts found themselves connecting with stone and earth as the group materialized on the other side of that portal. Rosa's superior training and experience had her steadily on her feet, joined by another large figure in the form of Monochromon at her side, apparently prepared for her arrival. Her mouth opened to speak, before interrupted by an exclamation.

"I'm changing. I can feel it!" Renamon fell to fours, hands elongating and growing fur of the same tawny hue that adorned her head. The transformation back to her standard furry vulpine form took mere moments, but was alarming to the Digimon all the same. "I'm myself again? Sariel, watch out!" She inserted herself between Monochromon and her Chosen.

Rosa leaned on her partner, balancing comfortably with one hand. "I didn't wish to reveal myself so soon, but I couldn't let you get to the Key first, could I? Monochromon, delete the fox. Stop the others." She stood aside with a mock curtsey as her partner rushed at Renamon.

The Digimon dove towards the ground, pushing her partner towards Wallace. "Stay with him. Find the Key before they do?"

"What the hell....? Renamon, you're exhausted from the change!" She was ignored in favor of luring of Monochromon away from the teenagers. "Wallace, Gijinka form makes them weak for a while after they transform. If Monochromon hits her, then...."

"Have faith. I'm sure things will turn out all right." Wallace's words were negated by the vulpine fighter landing with a definite thud a few feet from where they anxiously watched. "I hope."

"Fox Leaf Arrowhead!" Renamon's front paws extended defiantly towards the charging tusked Digimon, before spreading them wide, allowing jagged crystals to fly and imbed themselves in Monochromon's coarse hide. With the last expenditure of energy, Renamon relapsed into the form of Reremon.

Monochromon did not stop, even as Sariel ran to scoop up her exhausted Partner Digimon.

"Sari, move!" Wallace found himself skidding on his heel to a full stop, as a pair of shadows from overhead rained down a stream of bullets and energy on Rosa's raging partner, sending the Digimon off sliding to his side.

"Monochromon!" Rosa ran forward, only to be caught by strong male arms, pinning her own behind her. "Let me go, _idiota_!" Her steel-toed boot connected sharply with Wallace's foot, and still he held onto her, restraining the girl by pulling her arms farther back.

"Wendimon! Gargomon! You showed up just in time!" Wallace grinned at his partners, just before his captive's head came smashing into his forehead, sending stars across his vision. "Ow, you little...."

"Monochromon, escape!" Rosa rushed forward as her Partner turned tail at her command. Her lithe form slipped away from Wallace's grasp before he could hold her again. By the time the young man's vision returned to normal, his prey had already escaped to explain her failure to her commanding officer.

_That's going to leave a bruise. Ow._ The injured one took halting steps towards Sariel and Reremon, kneeling next to them.

"Reremon, hold still. Gather your energy! Hey, I'll get you a doughnut when we get back to my world!" Sari smiled brightly through her tears, never minding that the saline liquid splashed on her the ball of fur cradled in her arms.

"....s'ok. I won't be gone long. Primary Village...." Wide adoring eyes turned towards the blonde girl, a full display of her love and regard evident in that glance. "Just as long....as Sari is safe." Eyelids closed; a final breath was released. Sariel was left with her arms wrapped about herself as her partner burst into grey particles of data.

"Primary Village. I'll find you, I promise!" Sariel allowed Wallace to hold her as he offered murmured words of comfort. Her head fell to his shoulder, eyes sliding closed. "I will."

"Wa-ra-ssu!" His partners devolved, snuggling to the sides of the pair. "What's that, Wa-ra-ssu?" Lopmon pointed towards a thin plane, floating above Sariel's knees where her partner had only moments ago dissolved.

The wanderer blinked, eyes wide. "The Key! It was in Reremon! Sari, look!"

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly. "It...it is! Wallace, you better take it!" She nudged his side, indicating the D-3 still held in his hand.

He nodded once, reaching out with the device still firmly grasped. The Digital Key glowed brilliantly, with almost blinding light, before attaching itself and merging with the violet D-3. Wallace almost expected the device to change again, and breathed a sigh of relief when it did not.

"I'm glad that Reremon could help you." The blonde girl wiped her eyes slowly, blushing a deep crimson when Wallace reached to assist her. "You know, my mom died when she had me. Dad said she smiled so happily, just like Reremon did." With great hesitation, she moved away from him, dusting off her jeans. "Dad teaches mythology at one of the colleges in town. He named me after the Angel of Death, because he says many cultures just see death as a change." The face that turned towards Wallace favored him with an honest smile. "It brought good change for you. You have the second Digital Key, after all."

"I do, thanks to you and to Reremon." Wallace stood, wincing at the slight headache formed due to the cheap shot his head took. With an outstretched hand, he helped Sari to her feet, steadying her and himself at the same time. "I guess it's time to head back."

"Wa-ra-ssu! We'll wait for you here!" Terriermon looked upwards into the pale sky trapped in his human friend's eyes.

"Sou! Sou!" Lopmon piped up. The pair leaned in together. "Wa-ra-ssu!"

"I'll meet you in the next town, I promise!" Wallace extended an arm to Sariel, frowning slightly as she shook her head to deny the offer.

"I promised Reremon that I would come find her in Primary Village, and so I will." Impulsively, she leaned forward to give his cheek a soft, yet too-brief kiss. "Don't worry, cutie. You'll definitely see me, and Renamon, again!" She turned and ran, waving behind her before she had a chance to change her mind.

"WOOOOOOOOO, WA-RA-SSU!" The twin Partner Digimon cheered. "Wa-ra-ssu does it again! Mad pimpin'skillz!"

"No! I didn't do anything!" He continued to deny the accusations all the way back to the portal. "Who taught you to say 'mad pimpin' skillz', anyway?"

Morning found Rosa and her commander waiting in the front lobby of the Monte Carlo, scouting for their prey. The superior officer was quite displeased with the failure and discovery of his subordinate, but assured her that the mission was salvageable. The two waited in a discreet location near the exit, keeping an eye open.

"Sir, I see the girl." The young Mexican nodded faintly in the direction of a young woman, dressed in capri pants and tank top, light sweater wrapped around her shoulders. "The sunglasses won't fool us."

"No, Rosa." The heavy hand fell on the teenager's shoulder. "If she is just leaving, then he will have to follow soon. He has to check out, you see."

"I understand." She watched the blonde female make a casual exit, taking the first available taxi.

More minutes passed, quickly turning into an hour, with no show of Wallace.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Rosa?"

"Don't they allow checkout by using the televisions in the hotel rooms?"

The commander was silent.

Rosa glanced to him. "Sir?"

"Shit."

At McCarran International Airport, a young man eagerly washed light cosmetics from his clean-shaven face, ignoring the odd glances he received from the other travelers in the restroom. He made his exit, depositing the capri pants, tank top, and sweater in a donation box for the needy.

_Wallace Ford, you should be ashamed of yourself. I am a sly devil when I want to be._

He slid on headphones, heading to the line forming to board the plane that would take him to his next destination, as the mysterious email he received that morning instructed him to.

_"I'm Leaving Las Vegas  
Lights so bright  
Palm sweat, blackjack  
On a Saturday night  
Leaving Las Vegas  
Leaving for good, for good  
I'm leaving for good  
I'm leaving for good"_

**End Chapter Two.**


	5. Oblique

**Peregrine**  
Chapter Three  
_Oblique_

**** 

**o·blique** _adj._  
1. a. Having a slanting or sloping direction, course, or position; inclined. b. Designating geometric lines or planes that are neither parallel nor perpendicular.  
2. a. Indirect or evasive. b. Devious, misleading, or dishonest  


**** 

_"Got the blues from my baby,  
Left me by the San Francisco Bay.  
This big ocean liner took her so far away.  
Didn't mean to treat her so bad.  
She was the best girl I ever have had.  
She said good-bye, and she made me cry.  
I'm gonna lay right down and die."_

Blonde hair swayed in time with the nodding of the young man's head as he listened to the music on yet another compilation purchased on one of his many stops. Closed eyes fluttered open to greet the light of the early morning sun as it bathed the young traveler's face in soft splashes of flaming golds and vermilion. Wallace Ford smiled to himself confidently as he unhooked the headphones from around his ears, deactivating the device to put it in the backpack that had been his only traveling companion. 

_Yep, I'm a winner. No freaky Mexican girls following me trying to kick my ass. Life is good._

The bus continued on the brief remainder of its voyage, soon pulling into the station in downtown Sacramento, California. The terminal was quickly abandoned in favor of the street, already littered with young professionals and students alike, each individual rushing towards one place or another. After careful consideration of the map purchased hours earlier, Wallace determined that the best route to reach his destination would be to take Seventh Street and turn right onto I Street. 

Sneakers fell on the concrete as he began at an even pace, fresh morning sunlight drenching the eastern-facing half of his face. Walking the distance took no great effort, as he would have only wasted cash taking the bus. Losing himself in the crowd remained a simple task with the bustling morning rush towards coffee shops, libraries, offices, and the Downtown Plaza Mall at the junction of K Street and Seventh Street. 

The scent of freshly grilled meats and appetizers wafted from the kitchen of a restraunt as he passed, already crowded with the ravenous patrons demanding a satisfying breakfast. Wallace's own stomach gave a snarl of complaint, yet he continued on his way, intent on reaching the AmTrak station that would take him from Sacramento towards the Bay Area cities near San Francisco. 

The wanderer turned onto I Street and hurriedly traded one side for the other at the crosswalk before progressing on his chosen path. A heated wind sent the long golden hair streaming past his face, which out of necessity he gathered to pull into a ponytail. 

_I should really cut my hair. They'll recognize it, for sure. I don't know though. I suppose I could buy a wig if I need to do the girl thing again._

The female disguise had been inspired by an absent friend, one he had not seen since that fateful summer in Colorado, when that friend and others stood with him to battle one of his own Partner Digimon. His mother paid to have a broadband connection installed in their New York state home, and the first thing he did was set up a video conference with that friend in Japan. 

_"Wallace, what the hell did you do to your hair? You look like a girl!" _

"Nice to see you too, Motomiya-kun." The reply was a little dry. His more delicate features were decidedly not what he wished to hear commented on by his distant comrade. 

"It's the long hair. It's just....girly. You should cut it, before some random guy starts hitting on you." The words were puntuated with a sage nod. 

"I like my hair, and what if I want_ a guy hitting on me, hnnnnn?" Wallace grinned widely at the monitor, nearly laughing at the wide-eyed reaction. _

"That's your thing then. I thought you were the big ladies' man, or something. Of course," another nod accompanied the pause, "It's gotta be hard to get a girl to take you seriously when you could probably sneak in the locker room right along with them." 

"Daisuke-kun! I'm not desperate." A purely savage thought crossed the blonde's mind. "Then again, how do you know about something like that? Did you try it to get a sneak peek at Hikari-chan?" His laughter echoed across the room at the deep crimson at the cheeks of the figure presented to him on his monitor. 

"No! Besides...." Motomiya mumbled something unintelligible. 

"Huh, what was that?" Speakers were adjusted in anticipation of a repeat of the phrase. 

"I said, 'I'm not interested in her anymore, anyway.'" Daisuke paused, suddenly serious. "There's kinda someone else...." 

"Someone else? What, it's not Miyako-chan, is it?" Wallace teased his friend, worried by the severity of expression displayed. 

"No, Wallace-kun. It's not Miyako. He's...." The other teenager shook his head, before the unnatural adjustement of his features slid easily towards a toothy grin, as he scratched the back of his head. "The person's no one you know, anyway, so don't worry about it. So, did you say you were playing basketball?" 

Wallace stepped into the train station, glancing around to make sure his bizarre stalkers had not beaten him to the location. If they were there, they were not in a place his eyes could find them, so he continued on his way to purchase the ticket to Modesto. 

The train was already waiting by the time the transaction completed, and he boarded immediately, settling into his seat to muse over other events, especially the mysterious email he received on his laptop. 

_"The Fire in the Darkness left her heart in a town by the bay."_

"I Left my Heart in San Francisco...." Wallace muttered to himself. "That has to be it." He was still perplexed that he had been given the clue directly. Was the sender the mysterious "Creator" that Renamon named, or "Monsieur Butterfly" as Sariel had joked? The situation was indeed becoming more and more perplexing. 

Sariel. Her brilliantly smiling face joined with those of the others he met on his mission, from LadyDevimon in her human disguise as Seraphine LeNoir, to the murdered elderly woman next door, to the digital dust Reremon became when the wounds she bore became too much for her small frame to endure. 

His breath caught with that act of remembrance, forcing him to choke on the air solidly captured by his lungs. People he had only known for less than twenty-four hours, and he mourned their loss and pain as fervidly as though they were lifelong companions or close family members. The stab in his soul reaffirmed his dedication to the mission destiny placed in his care. 

_I will find the Digital Keys. I will find the 'Fire in the Darkness'. It's just be nice if someone would just tell me who or what it is!_

Wallace continued his musing as the AmTrak approached Modesto, disembarking once the male voice over the intercom announced that it was the proper time. After some searching, he found his way to the Bay Area Rapid Transit station, and stood in front of the automated ticket service, puzzling over its operation until locating the written instructions. A twenty dollar BART pass was purchased soon thereafter, and the traveler continued on to the turning steel bars that only allowed him entrance once the ticket was inserted into a slot, and released once it was retrieved on the opposite end. 

The BART train was a standard monorail service, similar to New York City's subway, save that this traveled both underground and over, connecting the various cities of the Bay Area, from Pleasant Hill, to Concord, to San Francisco itself. The seats were comfortable enough to be sat on for the duration of a long trip, with clear space enough to see the other passengers, even from one end of the train car. 

The weary traveler tucked his length of blonde under the bucket hat after changing trains once, falling into a light slumber, interrupted only by the occasional opening of his eyes to scan the faces of other occupants from his seat at the far corner of the last train car. No, he was certain that the Hispanic female and her companion from the airport were not on the transport as it carried him into San Francisco. 

Nearly everyone on the car rose to leave, and Wallace joined the commuters in their mass exodus from the train. The crowd seemed innocent enough, yet that miniscule voice from his subconscious insisted that he be careful. Eyes scanned the people he passed with caution, even as he held to this backpack with a vice grip. He mounted the steps that directed him towards the brilliance of midday outside, wishing desperately that he had considered removing his sunglasses from the leather pack _before_ deciding to leave the terminal. 

Yawning, he turned into the first available place, some non-franchised sub sandwich cafe. The minimum required purchase was made, and he sat to consume his mass of bread, meatballs, tomato sauce, and cheese while looking on the laptop removed from the worn leather backpack. Mere moments were all that Wallace required to boot the system and connect the modem to his cellular phone. 

"Piece of crap!" Wallace smacked the phone on the table, the wavering cellular signal instantly increasing to a full five bars on the meter displayed on the screen. This pleased him. "Ah, wonderful thing. Good cell phone. Good boy." 

Those ever-present annoying strands blocked the teen's clear view of the monitor, which he rectified with a careless sweep of his hand. The email program expanded out of the splash of royal blue advertising the executable's name, quickly advising of a new message to be read. Creamy flesh pressed firmly to the slate shaded plastic of the mouse, opening the selected item. 

The letter began innocently enough, name spelled in katakana, the "-san" suffix in hiragana. The rest of the letter followed in the kanji and kana of Japanese text. 

_"Ford-san, I knew the clue was simple enough that you should figure it out.  
You were the only Chosen in a position to take on this mission, without risk of  
outside corruption. It should tell you enough that you received two Partner Digimon,  
as all of the others have one. _

"These Digimon you encountered were not chance meetings. They have been tampered with  
by an organization that threatens the Digital World, and will likely attempt to assist you.  
Be careful that you can tell the difference. Their human Partners may be more easily fooled. 

"As for the humanoid form, this was more or less a legend among the Digimon, a falsity created  
in myth to explain small deliberate flaws within the general programming that spawned them.  
The only way for that form to be achieved is for the flaws to be altered by inserting human   
DNA coding. This has been successfully done before, and the means to do so again has apparently  
been rediscovered. 

"You will meet your contact in the shopping district of Nihon's smaller relative. A girl you've  
known will be there, but you will deny her in favor of her neighbor. The silver disks  
of the Emperor will show you the place where the wind blows. 

"Hurry. Time and trust are running out. 

"REPLY-TO: PromiseSnow@papillon.org" 

"Huh. Well, that explains it a little better." The young Ford mumbled the words to himself, washing down a bite of meatball sub with his carbonated beverage. Stewed tomato sauce stained the stark white fibers of the printed napkin a dark red as Wallace wiped his fingers clean so that he could type a suitable reply to the email without dirtying the keys of his laptop. 

_"Please tell me if you are the one Sariel told me of. How do you know these things?  
What am I supposed to do with the Digital Keys once I find them? _

"REPLY-TO: WFord@service.com" 

Immediately upon selecting the "Send Mail" function, a notice was received. Wallace eagerly opened the window containing the memo. 

_"This message is undeliverable. _

"Reason: No such address exists." 

"What? 'No such address exists'?! Geez, this is getting weirder and weirder." 

His next focus was another email, received from the uncle he barely could remember. 

_"Dear Nephew, _

"I hope this letter finds you well. I received the photos, and was very pleased with the quality!  
I hope you are learning a great deal, and I hope to hear from you again soon. I am not very skilled  
with this contraption, so I will close now." 

"Huh." He made a mental note to reply to that later. Wallace shut off the Internet connection and deactivated the laptop, returning said item and cellular phone to the confines of his well-used cowhide pack. Lunch was the next item scheduled to be "put away" as the Chosen proceeded to consume it with as much haste as his digestive system would permit, hiding the inevitable small burp behind his hand and an embarrassed exiting of the dining establishment. 

_Nihon's smaller relative. That must mean Japantown._

Directions to Japantown were easy enough to obtain, and the traveler soon found himself climbing the steep hills of Van Ness Avenue after taking the path from Mission Street to Market Street. By the time Wallace made it as far as the Van Ness Avenue intersection at Geary Boulevard, his legs burned with the desire to cease all movement. Screaming muscules and tendons were ignored in favor of turning onto Geary, continuing as he was instructed to until he reached the destination. 

"Miyako Mall. The girl I know...." He stood a few meters past a busy parking garage, at the worn lettering on the building he faced. "Deny her....for the opposite?" Wallace continued past the building into a small concrete courtyard. One solitary tower stood, decorated with a series of crimson ceramic-tiled awnings, forming decorative sections around the columnar structure. The building opposing the Miyako Mall was a nondescript white structure, labeled in conservative print, "Kintetsu Mall". 

Sky blue orbs shifted slightly sideways in their cavity, as Wallace scanned the primarily Japanese crowd within the area. He was instantly grateful for his fluency in the tongue, as he found himself offering a "Sumimasen!" or a "Shitsurei shimasu!" as he edged and prodded his way through the swarm of consumers pausing to enjoy ice cream or a beverage at the sweet shop located near the front entrance. 

He slid past a group of frantic _otaku_ in front of Japan Video, chatting in excited English over purchases, and turned down the hallway, pausing in front of another store. 

"Mikado Digital Discs." A confident smirk rose to his face. After all, wasn't "Mikado" another term for "Emperor"? The silver discs would easily relate to the DVDs, Laserdiscs, and other various disk-formatted media sold in such a place. The last fragment of his puzzle was instantly solved by the rush of air conditioned breeze caused by the difference in pressures outside the store and within, and he immediately slid to the rear of the store, peering at the imported music for sale. His hand rested on the chilled plastic containing a disc when a voice interrupted his perusal. 

"You are Wallace Ford, right?" The question was not phrased rudely, but in politely articulate Japanese. The speaker appeared to be two years the surprised recipient's junior, with hair cut conservatively, warm chocolate eyes regarding the American with curiosity. 

"That's me. Wait a minute. I know you from somewhere, don't I?" An image flashed from Wallace's memory, of a small boy with closely cropped hair, and a silent bearing that was shockingly similar to the one who had addressed him. "Iori-kun?" 

"Ah, you remember me. I'm very glad. It's good to see you again after so long." The faintest of smiles touched the Hida boy's lips. "Daisuke-san told us that you grew your hair out. As I recall, he said that you 'looked like a chick' and needed a haircut, I believe." That spectral smile expanded only marginally. "It suits you, and it is good to see you again, after so long." 

"It's good to see you too, Iori-kun." Wallace smirked at the reminder of his video conference with Motomiya. "Daisuke is just jealous of my good looks and charm, you know." He ended the joke with a smirk. 

"Funny," Iori replied, a bare hint of amusement evident in those reserved features. "That's what Miyako-san said too." 

The two exited the store, making idle chatter on their way farther down the hall and into another food vendor's domain, stopping long enough to order _boba nai cha_, milk tea with warm chewy tapioca pearls, and red bean filled pancake pastries, pressed into the shape of fish. The pair sat down with their beverages and _taikaki_, and regarded each other in momentary silence. 

"I suppose we have business to attend to, but you're probably curious as to what the others have been doing, right?" Iori chewed thoughtfully on a tapioca pearl, swallowing as Wallace replied with an enthusiastic nod. "Very well. Hn, let's start with Hikari-san. She and Takeru-san were dating for some time into High School, but they broke up about a year ago." Wallace nodded again. "I remember her email. She said it was a mutual agreement." 

"Yeah. I honestly think that Takeru-san met somebody while he was vacationing in Europe with his mother. At any rate, he's probably already planning what school he wants to attend in France." The smaller individual paused, shaking the sealed plastic cup containing his drink to mix the flavor of the tapioca with his tea. "Hikari-san has been dating a good deal, and I last heard she was studying for her college entrance exams to become a teacher." 

"That would suit her, I think." Wallace closed his eyes, allowing himself to savor the honey fructose flavoring the tapioca mixed with the mildly abrasive sensation of red bean paste washed down his throat. He found himself finding a strong desire to move to San Francisco permanently. The idea was washed aside in favor of his friend's report. "What about Miyako-chan?" 

"Miyako-chan. I'd almost pity her." The younger boy shook his head, sending a few strands of brown out of alignment with the rest of the style. "She pines after Ichijouji-san like a lost puppy, and I know he's noticed it. He just doesn't do anything about it. Otherwise, I don't know that Miyako-san has made any plans. She doesn't date, and spends her afternoons in the computer lab when she isn't hanging out with everyone else." 

"That's not good. Well, maybe she'll get over him, ne? From what Daisuke-kun's told me of Ichijouji-san, I don't think there's a chance." Slender fingers pulled the frustrating stray bits of blonde from his eyes for what had to be the fifteenth time that day. 

Hida nodded, fixated on watching at Wallace pulled the darkly shaded blob though a straw the diametral width of a dime. "We hardly see Ichijouji-san unless he's with Daisuke-san. I believe he's also been studying for college entrance exams for some important school or another. As for Daisuke," He forced himself to look away from Wallace in favor of his own diminishing supply of pale brown milk tea. "He's the same as he's always been." 

"That much, I was sure of." The elder teen turned, revealing his finely shaped facial profile, eyes upturned. "The others are well? The ones who were missing, from before." 

"Sora-san, Yamato-san, and Taichi-san were living together after graduation, but Taichi-san moved out about six months ago and moved to Osaka to go to school. It was very sudden too. Sora-san says they had a fight." The spoken phrase left the Hida with an unreadable countenance, fading quickly when Wallace turned once more to face him. "Anyway, Taichi-san is engaged to a girl he met down there. Sora-san and Yamato-san are still living together. She's going to Tama Art Design University in Hachiouji-shi, and Yamato-san is studying Physics." 

Wallace found the honey-saturated _boba_ caught in his throat, threatening to choke him. "He's WHAT?!" 

"Some deal with the government." Iori shrugged. "I'm not sure. Anyway, Koushiro-san is in college as well, some advanced Computer Programming course, and Jyou-san is in Medical School." 

"I know about Mimi-san." There had been no excuse for Wallace not to meet the bubbly Tachikawa, as he had been a Freshman her Senior year while he still lived in New York City. "She's gone to The Culinary Institute in New York." 

"Mimi." The corners of the smaller figure's lips turned upwards ever so slightly. "She occasionally emails Sora-san recipes to try. Really, Yamato-san is the better cook of the two." The wisdom in his tone made it perfectly clear that he had sampled some of that cooking. 

"So what are you doing here? Don't tell me it's just to see me." The blonde seemed amused by the idea. 

"No, I was in an International Studies course. This is my summer break." 

The conversation was continued, remaining casual as plastic containers were disposed of and the walk downstairs towards the Kinokuniya Bookstore began. Traces of Iori's stiffness in manner faded with the chatter shared between the two comrades. Wallace found himself being directed towards an abandoned unit, sign advertising in Japanese that the space would be unavailable for rental until renovations were completed. The younger brunette produced a key and inserted the grooved metal into the lock, turning to produce an audible click as the bolt shifted into the door. 

_Somebody call the cleaners._ The thought was provoked by the swirling of dust around his ankles as he stepped into the abandoned store. Where the mall itself had been filled with laudable vibrancy created by the skylight and colorful displays, the counters and broken shelving were drenched in the pale sickly light that sneaked through cracks in the corrugated cardboard paneling over the front windows. 

"We're meeting someone here," Iori's explanation began, "and since he may be followed, we chose this place. Don't worry. The back room isn't as dirty." 

"Good. I don't think my allergies have improved since I left New Orleans." The American followed the Japanese towards the rear of the location, one hand attempting to shield his tender nasal passage from the airborne particles of dust. He was relieved once the door came swinging open, the light switch activated. 

The newly illuminated room was indeed spotless, furnished with a simple desk and lamp, and a small cot where a boy near Wallace's age sat, a laptop resting at his knees as he furiously typed. He glanced up in surprise and typed a final few words before closing the device. 

"This is Yuri. He's from Russia. Sora-san and Miyako-san met him and his friends a few years ago," Iori explained. "You must be Wallace. _Privetstvie_." The young Russian stood, offering his hand to shake, which Wallace accepted. He looked very similar, wearing a short haircut with long layers of rich gold, and eyes the color of pale sea foam green. He spoke proper English with the heavy roll of his Slavic accent. "_Gospodin Babochka_ has had me looking all over Europe for the Digital Keys, and finally sent me here once you found success." 

Wallace didn't pretend to understand the Russian words exactly, but he could tell the "_Gospodin Babochka_" Yuri referred to would be the same who sent him the email earlier. "It's good to meet you, but I'm confused. If so many of us are around, why would I be picked for this?" 

"Simple, _tovarich_." A smile punctuated the Russian word for "friend". "You were the only one to be successful in not only finding a Digital Key, but _keeping_ the Key. 

_Lucky me._ The sardonic thought voiced itself in the Ford's mind, but he only outwardly shrugged his shoulders, sitting next to the Russian. "So do you think you know where the third Key is?" 

"_Da_. Well, I believe so." The affirmative was given with hesitance as Yuri rebooted his laptop, soon bringing up a map. "It might possibly be in Chinatown. There was activity near the parking garage. I saw some strange men, and a few people our age there." 

"So then we should go check it out!" He looked over the map in an attempt to read the street names. "Where is your Partner Digimon?" 

"Kuwagamon and Armadillomon are already on their way to meet your Partners, Wallace-san." Iori answered for Yuri, peering around Wallace towards the laptop monitor. 

"Awesome. So that means we get to take the bus to Chinatown, right?" The traveler was answered by a pair of nodding heads, to which he could only sigh. "Okay, so why are we sitting on our asses here?" 

"What else does a person sit on?" Yuri blinked in confusion. "Oh, I see. That is another silly American phrase." His amused chuckle echoed across the whitewashed walls. 

"Yuri-san, you have mail." Iori pointed to the screen blinking the alert. 

"Ah, it can wait." Yuri closed the program quickly, laughing again. "That's my girlfriend back in Russia." 

_Girlfriend? RedRose@digiproj.cx doesn't look like a Russian address._ Wallace shrugged off the thought though the address remained committed to memory, standing quickly, arms rolled out before him to stretch the shoulder joints. "Let's go then!" 

"Of course. We will leave immediately." The Russian stood, displaying that he was nearly five inches taller than Wallace, and built larger than his former posture indicated. The computer monitor fell to a dead greyness as the power source was removed, and the system was settled into the confines of the protective carrying case. 

The trio of Chosen exited through the loading door into a narrow alley the size of no more than the width of a garbage truck, which ironically blocked the path in one direction, forcing them back towards the side street leading to Geary. The youngest of the three displayed the most knowledge of the San Francisco Regional Transit system, leading them to the proper place to greet the bus. 

With the first foot planted on the step leading inside, the group found themselves greeted by the nauseating stench of mold laced with the acid of urine wafting from the back of the vehicle. Wallace wasn't quite sure what Yuri muttered under his breath, but he was certain the bit of Russian had to have been an expletive. Only Iori's features remained neutral, but the other two were certain they noticed a touch of a strain in those dark hickory-hued eyes. Only one objective became an immediate concern: locating a seat that wasn't coated in trash or shared whatever odor that issued a very deliberate warning not to sit near the rear of the vehicle. 

A few lengthy blocks and a series of turns later, the group changed busses to one that thankfully did not smell as offensive, and seemed superficially cleaner than the last one. This was indeed fortunate for the boys, as the remainder of the trip slowed to a crawl with the downtown San Francisco traffic. 

"Why do they call this 'rush hour' anyway?" Yuri grumbled. "No one 'rushes' anywhere! I think it is very stupid." 

"No, everyone's rushing." Wallace corrected as his lip curled upwards into a small smirk. "Unfortunately, when everyone rushes, it slows everything down, like how an hourglass works." Blonde threads fell back to cover his eyes, deftly brushed away by accustomed fingers. "And yes, I agree, it's stupid." 

"I....see." The Russian only shrugged, sliding across the naugahyde bench to face the yellow-tinted window. Calloused fingers drummed against the olive vinyl, posture saturated with boredom. The tedium seemed more oppressive to him than his two companions, who watched him curiously. 

After that temporally frozen moment in traffic, the driver finally turned the corner, and stopped a block into Chinatown. The trio gratefully exited, each making a secret vow that the next trip would be by something _other_ than public transportation. Three pairs of feet connected with stained cracked pavement, pulling their owners towards the crosswalk at the corner, where three pairs of anxious eyes strained towards the sign that would indicate when crossing the road would be safe. 

The inevitable moment occured then the light changed, the group mingling with the crowd crossing the eroded pavement at the intersection. With a turn, the Chosen veered away from the bustling professionals, tourists, and residents, and into a concrete courtyard. The immediate location housed a narrow ocher-stained building with a carmine roof consisting of metal half pipe tiles. Dull steel double doors reflected the afternoon sun cheerlessly, opening for those who pressed the buttons to the side. These were clearly the elevators leading into the parking garage, as the plastic covered signs between the elevators indicated. The courtyard itself extended much farther past it towards the end of the block, displaying a smaller similar building at the opposite corner, two doors each sporting a placard, one indicating male, and the other female. 

"Didn't you say it was in the parking garage?" The American blonde turned to the Russian, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the nearby structure. 

"_Da._" The affirmative was granted. "There should be another way down nearby." 

"Wait for me then. I really need to use the bathroom." Wallace flushed in slight embarrassment, and left his companions to make use of the facilities at the far end of the courtyard. 

_Wow, I found the bathroom that time forgot._ The traveler blinked in mild disgust once he located the light switch and flipped it. Everything seemed to be covered with a few centimeters of dust and grime, even the stray bits of toilet paper near open stalls did not escape the filth. Wallace would have rather found a nice discreet alleyway to take care of his business than the stained urinal before him, but as the phrase states, "When you gotta go, you gotta go!" 

That business was concluded in as little time as possible, and quickly flushed. The young man was surprised even that simple mechanism worked, much less the running water sputtering out of the faucet where he washed his hands. He would have turned to leave, if a dim flash of sapphire had not caught his eye. 

The light came from inside one of the stalls, only visible due to a broken light fixture allowing the area to fall into shadow. The thought occurred to Wallace to call for his fellow Chosen, but curiosity won the battle with his common sense as he reached for the cracked panel of tile the light seeped from. 

Hesitant fingers connected with the fragmented ceramic, the pressure resulting in the flaking of teal paint as the entire panel slid into the wall. The panel itself slid in only a few centimeters before that entire section gave way, causing the entire area surrounding the toilet to slide inward. Wallace turned towards the only opening past that which lead to a dimly lit staircase, only broad enough for one person to occupy. 

_Why do I feel like I've stepped right out of reality and into some weird James Bond flick?_

These were thoughts that the explorer did not give voice to as he crept deeper and deeper into the hole created by the stairwell, towards an oddly pulsating scarlet and violet light at the bottom. Each footfall echoed loudly in the slender confines of the stairwell, and Wallace was certain he was trapped once his own shadow stopped preceding him. Once he heard the crunch of the panel behind him reconnecting with the tiled bathroom wall, he knew he could only progress downwards. 

The stairs did eventually come to an end, as Wallace stepped into what he could only describe as a command center of some sort, equipped with the required massive monitors, illuminated maps, and computer consoles. It didn't seem as though anyone had been there in a month or so, indicated by the fine layer of filthy powder resting on the various keyboards and touch panels. He approached one of these, sitting down to have a better look at a display. Listed there for his perusal was a list of names, organized alphabetically after country, with another listing for one item that had Wallace's eyebrows risen into his fair hairline. 

_These are Digimon listed! These must be a list of everyone who has a Partner Digimon._ He scrolled forward, to the Japanese list, where the names of his distant friends were displayed with a caution marker next to them. No time was wasted in retrieving his laptop, setting the list to download, along with the attached files. Silently, he continued to read the various other files, most of which consisted of failed plans to subvert various other Chosen like himself, as well as a heavily encrypted file named "Project G". 

The portable laptop had the text files downloaded in mere minutes, and Wallace carefully hid the item away in his backpack, returning the cloth storage bag to his shoulders. The list of names continued to intrigue the wanderer, and he peered again at the list of his friends' names. 

_Weird. Iori-kun's name is in red. I wonder why?_ He touched the dusty monitor, curiosity requiring that he search for the Hispanic girl who had been stalking him. The name was quickly located, being the only Rosa listed for Mexico. _Odd. Her name is in red too._

Warnings flashed in the Ford's mind, and he stood. _I have to get out of here. They'll find me if I go out the way I came in!_ He frantically typed a command into the computer, relieved when the program that would open the gate to the Digital World appeared. _Saved!_. 

He extended his arm, D-3 clutched tightly in his fingers. "Digital Gate, op-....uuhn." He fell with a thud, eyes only dimly aware of leather boots and a metal pipe gripped by pale digits, with a familiar voice speaking as his vision gave way to a black nothingness. 

"I'm sorry for this, Wallace-san, but you know too much." 

**End Chapter Three.**  
_To Be Continued._


	6. Veracity

**Peregrine**  
Chapter Four  
_Veracity_

**** 

**ve·rac·i·ty** _n._  
1. Adherence to the truth; truthfulness.   
2. Conformity to fact or truth; accuracy or precision:_ a report of doubtful veracity._  
3. Something that is true. 

****

_"Staying inside has got me doubting my mind  
And doing battle with phantoms again.  
In the form of some notes, I think a musical ghost   
Is digging dead melodies from my head._

I should be out in the sun, I should be having some fun.  
I should be drinking some beer, I should be reading somewhere.  
I should be seeing my wife instead of wasting my nights  
And from all that I hear I should be getting my hair cut."

Pain.

The whole world was a pure symphony of explosive undulating pain, centered at a pulsating convex location at the back of his head. He was only mildly aware that his hands were tied behind his back with coarse rope. The stiffness of his shoulders was the equivalent of a needle piercing his skin in comparison with the jackhammering of his skull. Strands of gold were mildly matted with the rusty brown of dried vital fluid, and even the low groan that escaped from deep within his throat resonated with sufferance not unlike a knife twisting into his aching brain.

"Ow."

Wallace pulled himself up with cautious velocity, still unwilling to present his eyes to the fluorescence that turned his vision crimson as faint light penetrated the shield of flesh covering his eyes. The moments it took for him to make it to a kneeling position were eternal to his pain-infused perception, and the traveler wondered if it was the world that moved around him instead. He considered with what small amount of his thought process that was not focused on the agony in his head that he might have possibly had a concussion.

"No, Wallace-san, don't move too much." A gentle hand slid towards the back of his head, carefully avoiding the place the pipe had connected with the now-tender flesh. Another hand held a cup of water towards parched lips, the liquid sliding down the grateful throat to combat the bile movement caused to rise. "I'm sorry that it was necessary for me to incapacitate you, though you don't believe me now, I'm sure."

The blonde choked on the next offered item, a dry slice of lightly toasted bread. The voice insisted that he eat, so he reluctantly swallowed the food, despite the protest from his stomach. More of that precious cool water followed, and Wallace drank eagerly, until he found his mouth forced open, a pill forced into his mouth that he could not help but swallow.

"It's just Vicodin. It won't kill you." His hands were next unbound, only to be retied in front of him. The world turned on its end him once more as his caretaker laid him back on the cot, a pillow lodged under his aching head. "Rest now, and you'll have your explanation when you wake up."

Wallace had no choice but to comply, as the darkness claimed him once again.

When he woke the second time, his hands were still bound before him, but the hooks of agony implanted in his skull that threatened to tear his head appart had been removed in favor of a dull throbbing ache. The nausea had almost completely vanished, much to his relief. The weary traveler found himself able to sit up, moving clumsily thanks to the grogginess of his pain and the drug his captor forced down his throat.

Wallace found his ears assaulted by the plastic clicking which he recognized as a keyboard. Eyes were opened with slow deliberation, focusing on the figure, the pulsating pain in his head bringing light and color into a sharp and definite focus.

"Iori....." He gasped the name, and would have lifted a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the harsh florescent bulb had it not been cruelly tied to its twin. "What the hell....is going on?"

The Hida boy did not immediately respond, instead opting to type a command into the laptop that Wallace immediately recognized as being his own. The item was powered down and returned to the older teen's leather backpack. Metal conflicted with concrete, screeching as the folding chair was drawn across the ground so that Iori could sit across from Wallace.

"You will not believe me, I'm sure, but I did this for your own good." Iori began, a trace of sorrow evident in the brown eyes drilling into Wallace's. "You apparently were Chosen to protect the Digital World from this most recent threat. I suppose that task was to have fallen into the hands of our team." He produced his D3. "This was supposed to inform us. None of the others know about the Digital Keys, or that you were pulled into this."

"That still doesn't explain why you hit me over the head with a damned pipe, Iori!" The blonde frowned, a snarl nearly forming on those smooth features.

"We are being monitored visually, so I can't remove your bindings. These cameras have no sound, however, so we are free to talk." Iori continued, unmoved by the older boy's outburst. "I've infiltrated their organization. Many other Chosen Children were taken, usually around the time they suffered a traumatic event. Yuri's parents were murdered during a robbery. I noticed that you had Rosa's name pulled up on the computer outside. Her home was destroyed with her in it. Another, Catherine in France, she was kidnapped. I won't go into detail, but it was relatively traumatic for her." He paused, a flash of disgust on his face at the thought.

"And someone was there, to 'help' them pick up the pieces of their lives and give them purpose, correct?" The captive leaned back against the wall, careful to prevent his head from contacting with the unyielding cinder blocks.

"For each taken, yes. The Commander started about two years ago. How long he's been planning the theft of the Digital Keys is anyone's guess."

"What about you, Iori? Why are you with him?"

Silence passed between the boys before Iori spoke again. "He killed my grandfather six months ago. I received an email warning me just before The Commander approached me. It was an opportunity that I could not pass up." The faintest sigh passed through dried lips, chocolate pools finally shifting away from the cornflower of Wallace's gaze. "This is my duty, as a Chosen Child."

"Duty. Heh." Wallace found himself buying the story, silencing the doubts he might have had regarding his friend. "I'm sorry, but the price of duty sucks ass, Iori-kun."

"Quite." The subject shifted at Iori's suggestion. "We will need to remove Yuri as an obstacle. He's misguided, but still dangerous, and fanatical in his dedication to The Commander."

"Who in hell is this 'Commander' person?" The word "commander" nearly spat out with the sense of distress that rose within the Ford. He _knew_ already. The features of Rosa's guardian had been committed to memory in the airport in Las Vegas.

"I have a theory that he's working for someone else, but really, he's the only true figurehead I've seen personally. Every order comes from him." Hida frowned, the gesture turning his countenance severe. "What's worse, he looks like Ge-"

A loud noise interrupted the word before Iori could finish it, the smaller youth whipping his head around towards the door. "Quickly, Wallace-san." Wallace noted upon the other boy's rising that there was a slender device strapped to Iori's hand, hair-thin metal fibers spread across that small hand. Hida was careful to avoid letting the camera see it as he slid a lightweight jacket onto his frame. "Follow my lead, please."

Ford followed Hida numbly, biting back the gore that wanted to do nothing more than travel the distance of his esophagus to his mouth. He swallowed this back, wincing at the foul acidic flavor coating his tongue. The meatball sandwich from earlier was proving to be an unruly resident of his stomach.

The two continued past the door frame and into a narrow passage, dimly lit with bulbs, illumination muted by layers of dust on the plastic shrouds shielding the sources. The older figure eyed the back of the younger Chosen's head, still suspicious of those unclear intentions, and still slightly unsteady from the dull pain in his head. Even so, he kept quiet and remained secretly grateful that Iori thought to bring the leather backpack with him. After a moment of walking, the pair turned down another branch of the hallway, into the room Wallace in which had been attacked. 

Yuri sat at the main console, the one Wallace had been at hours before, apparently running a search. He glanced around sharply towards Iori, a hand risen to indicate that the captive should be brought forward. He only spared a single smug glance for the other blonde, returning to his typing.

"How the mighty have fallen. We have our little golden prince here, and soon, we will have our other target. The Commander will be most pleased." Ready fingers slid across the keyboard with only the small clicks to indicate keys were being pressed. The series of names on the primary screen shifted form, a replica of Iori's native country forming in colors of green on black. Another command had the display zoom in on Tokyo, bringing the map of districts and prefectures to the fore. Different kanji appeared over the district of Odaiba, a pair in Hachijouji, and another in the Tamachi area.

"Can you read those, _tovarich_?" Yuri peered at Wallace for any sign of recognition. Of course he could read the names of his friends displayed before him, but this was not allowed to betray him as he kept his expression carefully neutral. "I don't suppose you can, American. It doesn't matter. You don't know him."

_Where have I heard that before?_ Daisuke's words echoed through Wallace's confused mind unbidden, and he had a fear that meatball sub sandwich wasn't done flip-flopping in his stomach. "What do you have planned?"

"You don't need to know that information. The Commander will be here within the hour to retrieve you. After he's done with you, you'll beg him to accept the Digital Keys!" Laughter echoed off of the plastic and metal that lined the room's walls, suddenly cut off with a gurgle from his throat.

Yuri stood, choking as his hand flew to his neck, pulling it away to reveal bare traces of blood. He fell, head crashing into the console. Behind him, Iori stood with a needle, pale fluid dripping. "It's a tranquilizer, Wallace-san. Don't look at me as though I've just killed him."

The smaller boy dropped the needle, moving to unbind Wallace's hands. His next course of action was to open the Digital Gate, entering the desired location. The darkness was chased back with near-blinding light as the Gate opened, and swallowed Yuri moments after Iori held him up. "I sent him somewhere remote. It's your turn now, Wallace-san. You have to get to Japan. By now, they've already taken him." Iori slid an optical disc into Wallace's backpack before returning the item to him. "This will deposit you near Primary Village. Another portal should be easy enough to find. Just look for a TV." 

"What about you, Iori-kun?" The face that turned towards the smaller teen was skeptical, concern evident in those sky-hued eyes. "Come with me."

The Hida shook his head sadly. "No, Wallace. I have to make sure The Commander doesn't find you. I'm blowing this place up, so I need to detonate it from here." Before Wallace could protest, Iori had the gate open. "Go to Japan! Find Ichi...." The words were cut off as the traveler found himself on the other side of an oddly shaped monitor, face first in grass.

"You sure do know how to make an entrance, hot stuff."

_I know that voice...._ Blue eyes turned slowly, greeted by bare legs. _I know those legs too._ He rolled over, looking directly up at a smirking face he did not expect to see so soon. "Sariel, hiya."

"I don't hear from you for a week, and all you can say is 'hiya'? Hmph." She extended a hand to assist her friend in rising. "You're forgiven because you're cute."

"How did you know where to find me?" He brushed the digital dirt from his clothes, sparing a worried glance for the inactive monitor. _Iori. Good luck!_

"Mysterious email from an address that shouldn't exist." The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a sheepish grin, and she took Wallace's hand. "Let's go get Renamon and your Partner Digimon. They're outside of Primary Village. We're not that far away." 

Rubescent coloring graced his cheeks, which he tried to subdue by focusing on the iridescent butterflies surrounding and following the pair as one lead the other towards the intended destination. Wallace found himself suitably distracted, watching as the swarm seemed to travel with an uncanny deliberation of movement, as though following a uniform purpose. _Weird._

Sariel pulled Wallace along, traveling over the verdant hills that spread out before them. The young man took a moment to notice the slightly older girl. Her face carried a look of resolve that had not been there when he last saw her, as though there were some renewed oath to keep. He found his heart catch when sunlight poured through the golden strands that trailed behind her as she ran ahead of him. The vision was breathtaking, though there was momentary regret that the contact of her hand in his was broken with the distance.

_Keep your thoughts on the task at hand. You'll have time to use your mad pimpin' skillz when the Digital Keys are found._ Wallace repeated the thought to himself like a mantra, surpised at how quickly the journey was over when he was tackled by two rather excited Digimon, Terriermon and Lopmon.

"WARRASU!" The two practically squealled, followed by the melodious laughter of Sariel, and the other familiar chuckle of Renamon. "It's about time you arrived!" Lopmon poked his human friend once in the nose with a paw, just for good measure.

"Lopmon, Terriermon! Get off already! I can't feel my legs below the knee!" Wallace laughed, accepting Sariel's help to stand upright again once his two furry friends moved from his lower appendages.

"We found a gate, Warrasu! We found one that will take you to Sacramento. I'm sorry, but we couldn't find another one in San Francisco that wouldn't draw attention." Terriermon frowned, the olive and ivory of his fur turning rose-hued, painted by the setting sun.

"It's not too far from here, but it's getting late, so you should camp here with us, Warrasu." Lopmon offered a big smile. floppy ears catching a bit of mild breeze.

The two Partner Digimon scrambled ahead when Wallace took Sariel's smaller hand in his, a touch of a smirk resting at the corners of his mouth as he felt sure he detected a brilliant blush threatening to overpower the fuchsia of the sinking sun. _This is a bad time to get like this, but I really don't think I care._

They found an open area near a few stray trees near the monitor that served as a portal back to the Real World, and set up camp, complete with a blazing fire with plant roots roasting there. Sariel explained that they were a bit like yucca root, which tasted somewhat like a potato, only sweeter. Wallace agreed, comparing the texture more to that of a yam. It was a simple dinner, but not one to be complained about.

"Hey, Sari?" The traveler looked down where Seraphine leaned against him, her back against his chest as his legs ran along the outside of hers. Renamon stood guard on the other side of the dying fire, trying her hardest not to be amused by the frolicking twin Digimon and failing miserably.

"Yeah, Wallace?" She leaned her head back, sapphire meeting his sky blue.

"Come to Japan with me."

Disbelief and confusion touched her features, shadows cast by the camp fire deepening the set of her eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Never been more serious. You have a passport, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. I've been there with my father not too long ago."

"You're legal and aren't working. Come with me."

The young man smiled gently at Sariel, reaching down to brush stray golden strands from over her eyes. "Wallace....I don't know."

She looked down again, upper incisors worrying her lower lip.

"Think about it tonight, and let me know tomorrow." Warm arms wrapped around the female, offering a hug before warm breath and a soft weight touched the top of her head as Wallace nuzzled there, soon falling asleep.

It was at least another hour before sleep came for Sariel.

Morning found the girl held in furrier arms, as Renamon sheltered her Partner from the ground as she had plenty of times in the past. She pulled herself away from her partner, who murmured in protest before snapping awake, instantly alert.

"Chill, Rena. It's just the morning. It won't bite you." Sari grinned, reaching for her own backpack to take her brush and mirror and make use of them for her morning grooming. "Where's Wallace?"

Renamon smirked at the comments. "Your prince is at the portal, waiting for your slow ass." The Digimon stood, helping Sariel when she was done with her morning primping. "You look fine. Let's go, already."

Wallace was soon located, sitting next to the monitor, his partners romping off in the background, loudly laughing. He watched them, a trace of sadness evident. _I'm going to miss them. Hopefully they'll be able to wander freely with me once I'm in Japan._

"Ahem." Sariel cleared her throat, pulling the wanderer's attention towards her, face lighting in a smile. "Ah, there you are. Ready to go?"

The girl nodded, and turned to hug her partner. "Renamon, I'll get you once we're in Tokyo. Watch for me, and take care of yourself."

"Worry about yourself, blondie." The taller Digimon hugged her partner close, and gently pushed her away, standing off to the side. She failed in her attempt to appear stern, warmth in her eyes for the human who had been her friend for so many years.

The male blonde was busy with heartfelt goodbyes of his own, burying his face in the warmth created by Terriermon and Lopmon. "We'll be here waiting for you, Warrasu." Terriermon sniffled.

"Yeah, and then when you're in Tokyo, we can walk around with you there!" Lopmon smiled bravely at his Partner.

"And you get to see all my friends there. Terriermon, don't cry! You get to hang out with Veemon again!" The human stood away from the Digimon twins, reaching for Sariel's hand.

"Wallace, about my answer, I...." She began. A swarm of iridescent butterflies flew overhead, casting oddly shining shadows over the girl.

"Later for that, Sari." He smiled and shook his head, and with an extension of his arm, fingers clenched around his D-3, the pair were soon pulled through that junction of data that connected the Digital World to the Real World, landing with a thud on worn office carpet.

"Damned teenagers! Get out of here! No making out in the back of a RADIO SHACK!!" A rather wrinkled old woman peered down on them, sneering angrily at them. "Out! Now!"

The pair apologized and made their way outside. Luckily, Wallace recognized the area as being near the mall he passed on his way from the Greyhound station to the AmTrak station. He did not let go of her hand during the duration of the walk to the AmTrak station, turning on the lettered streets with determined velocity.

"When we get to the station, I'll need you to cut my hair before I leave." The teen spoke in hushed tones, where only his companion could hear. "I don't think you should come with me after all. I will be too dangerous for you, and I'd rather you stay with Renamon so she can protect you when I can't."

"Bite me, Ford. I can take care of myself." Sariel freed her hand forcefully, and marched into the terminal. "I'm going with you, and it's too late to retract your invitation. Now get into that terminal and buy us our goddamned ticket before _I_ kick your ass." She stood by the ticket counter, arms folded across her chest.

_No way I'm arguing with that._ Wallace smirked. "Fine, angel, but you are going to have to keep up with me." He approached the counter. "Two for Los Angeles." He peered past blonde bangs towards the female, unable to hide a smirk at her indignant expression. He accepted the newly printed tickets, handing one to Sari and pocketing the other.

"So, do we have a long wait?" The anger in her expression faded slightly, enough that she allowed Wallace to take her hand again.

"A couple hours. I figured we could go to the IHOP a block down and get some pancakes or something for breakfast. I know I'm hungry, and I'm sure you could use a bite to eat as well." The smirk expanded to a grin at Sariel's enthusiastic nod.

"I freakin' LOVE pancakes. We're going NOW." This time it was Sari who lead the way, pulling Wallace the length of the block and into the International House of Pancakes nearby.

As the duo were seated, another diminutive figure sneaked in, heart-shaped face framed by pale curls tucked under a bucket hat. She glanced up from her newspaper from time to time, towards the two who were engaged in animated conversation over pancakes and eggs. The other patrons did not seem to notice that she had not turned the page of her paper during the time she had picked it up.

"Commander, they are paying for the bill now. I will be at the station waiting." Crimson lips spoke into a near-microscopic microphone concealed in her compact as she pretended to check her makeup.

"Excellent, Catherine. Go now, and make sure Ford does not enter the bus. Kill the girl with him, if you have to." The reply was dry and humorless. The Commander was serious.

"_Oui._"

Catherine left her table, leaving a bill that was more than enough to pay for the food as well as leave an excessively generous tip, and nudged past Wallace and Sari as they were exiting the place.

"_Pardonnez-moi._" Catherine slid between the pair, and hurried on ahead of them.

"That was French." Sariel commented, walking at a leisurly pace next to Wallace, fingers twined with his. "She was watching us the entire time, you know."

"You're pretty sharp." The traveler pulled Sariel into another business. "Excuse me," he inquired of the clerk, "but may we use your bathroom to cut something stuck in my hair?"

The teenaged clerk stared blankly at the Ford from behind horn-rimmed black glasses, spiked hair refusing to move out of place as he nodded. "Bathroom is in the back. Don't spend all day there, and no screwing around. I don't wanna clean the mess." A key attached to a malformed coat hanger was placed in Wallace's hand, and the embarrassed pair snuck to the back of the establishment.

Once the door was closed firmly behind them, Wallace handed Sariel a pair of scissors from his worn travel bag. "Cut my hair. Make it different enough that I can't be recognized."

"But Wallace....your hair. I thought you loved it." Her tone was mournful, scissors held with uncertainty and reluctance.

"What choice is there? Come on, Sari. Just do it." He sighed, and took the scissors, cutting a front bit of his hair. The florescent lighting illuminated the strands in a violet-white hue, contrasting with the filthy lime-colored tile floor.

The young woman's breath was released in a sigh. "Fine, but I want you to cut mine afterwards. If you need to disguise yourself, so do I, since they likely know what I look like." She began tearfully cutting the length of gold from the Ford's head, wondering what thoughts crossed his mind as those eyes closed. The style was formed carefully, making sure ends were even.

Her efforts resulted in a center part, bangs curled back at the length of his ear lobes, the rest angled back into long layers that curled just short of his shoulders at the back of his neck. Using a bit of colored styling glue Wallace handed her, she disguised his blonde tresses to appear as though his natural hair color was an inky jet black.

Wallace took the scissors from Sari next, and with one snip, severed the braid from its foundation. The shortened remainder was shaped into a shaggy cropped cut, with shorter bangs fringing her forehead above the eyebrows, and two single long layers along the sides of her face, the remainder cut almost boyishly short. He produced a mirror, holding onto Sariel when she threatened to weep for the loss of her mane.

"It'll grow, and you did a good job," she sniffled, "but....it's so much hair, and now it's gone!" Sariel turned to wash her face, and touched up her makeup, making it a touch more dramatic, and changed clothes after insisting Wallace turn around. He changed as well when Sari had finished, and the Chosen looked more like a pair of club-goers that ventured out into the sunlight at the wrong hour of the day.

"You were in there a long time." The clerk looked at them. "My bad. I guess those two squares gave you the keys. Fuck 'em." He returned to his Penthouse magazine, rotating the page to peer at the centerfold. "Hurry up and buy something before I kick your asses out."

Not wanting to anger the disgruntled attendant any more than he already was, Wallace purchased a pack of Twinkies.

"These things'll kill you. Your funeral." The clerk scanned the packaged confection. "That'll be sixty cents. Fork it over." He deposited the change once Wallace paid, and returned to his softcore.

"What a jerk!" Sariel grumbled as the two returned to the terminal. "I guess that's what happens when you do nothing but look at porn all day."

"That's the sign of a guy who hates life and isn't getting laid." Wallace smirked. He directed Sariel to the counter with him. "I need to change my bus for one to one to San Diego."

"You're in luck. There's one leaving in ten minutes." The station attendant smiled, revealing yellowed smoke-stained teeth. "No charge to change, either." The woman handed the tickets over, winking to Wallace. "Luck to you and your lady there."

Wallace would have laughed at Sariel's sudden scarlet coloration, had a most interesting sight greeted him. It was the blonde French girl from the IHOP, casually glancing up from a paper. "They don't train these people well, do they?"

Both Chosen walked past the girl, not even drawing a glance from her. They paused on the opposite side of the tile and concrete pillar she leaned against, listening as the spy drew her compact.

"_Non_, Commander. I have not see them." She frowned, glossed lips forming a definite pout.

"They could be disguised. Keep alert." The elder man instructed.

"_Mais oui!_" Of course! was her reply, and she returned to her attentive surveillance.

"Looks like they scraped the bottom of the barrel for recruits." Sariel muttered, heading towards the direction of the San Diego bus. She set her foot on the step. "Wallace?"

Wallace had paused, but only when a knife was held at his throat, the blade touched with a touch of blood. "Sariel...."

"I am not the ditz you think I am." The French-accented thread sounded odd from the delicate young woman. "You get on the bus, and he dies! His blood will stain the path on our glorious cause!"

Sariel froze, staring in disbelief. "You can't kill him. Your commander needs the Digital Keys!" The terminal was nearly empty, the driver in the back using the restroom on the bus, so no one came to the Chosens' aid. "Help us! Don't you care about the Digital World too? Aren't you Chosen?"

"Hah! I am Chosen for a greater purpose than protecting a world that was created to serve us!" Catherine's hand faltered all the same. "This is the best way to protect it!" Haughty cackling filled Wallace's ears, but in that moment, the girl's guard dropped, and the traveler made his move, hooking his ankle around hers to send the inexperienced teenager to the ground, knife cast away. He tore at her sleeve, revealing a thickness of black metal wrapped around.

Catherine was on her feet instantly, tackling Wallace to the ground, a stiletto springing from a concealed sheath on her arm. Sariel panicked, unsure of how to help her struggling friend, and grabbed the first thing she could find.

The French teenager soon found the sweet fluffy white filling of a Twinkie in her eyes, dropping the stiletto to rub it out. She never saw Wallace's fist coming as it connected with her perfect nose, filling the girl's vision with sparks instead of vanilla cream.

"Quickly, on the bus!" Wallace shoved the spy off of him, sending her sliding across the concrete. Sari was only too happy to comply, tugging him towards the back of the bus, ignoring the complaint of the driver as he took the tickets, having just returned to his seat.

The pair slid down onto the foam padded seats, moving the flase oak arm rest upwards so that it no longer seperated them. "Did you notice that weird black armband she wore?" Sariel glanced at Wallace. "It looked electric."

"I need to let Daisuke and the others know what's up." Wallace reached for his laptop, connecting his cellular phone to the modem adaptor for his broadband connection. With the lifting of the monitor lid, the laptop came to life in vivid colors, and Wallace loaded the messaging program.

_"Daisuke-kun, this is me. There's something horrible going down, and my friend and  
I are on our way to Tokyo to come see you guys. We need your help. There's some weirdo  
taking Chosen and making them work for him. We were just attacked here in Sacramento. I will  
email you again when we arrive in Tokyo tomorrow._

"Be careful,  
Wallace"

With a click on the mouse touchpad using his index finger, the message was sent. Wallace turned to comment about Daisuke to Sariel, when his mail notification went off only moments after he emailed his Japanese comrade.

"That was fast." He commented, pulling the file. "Daisuke-kun must be at his computer now."

_Wallace-kun, been waiting. Captain Butterfly said you were coming. Please hurry, and bring  
the Digital Keys quickly. I don't know what they want, but...._

"....they have Ken-chan."

**End Chapter Four.**


	7. Disclosure

**Peregrine**  
Chapter Five  
_Disclosure_

****

**dis·clo·sure** _n._  
1.The act or process of revealing or uncovering.   
2.Something uncovered; a revelation. 

****

_"Take the map and tear it up  
We'll find our way anyway.  
We'd never gotten this far if we'd followed the road.  
If you listen close to most advice you'll never get anywhere.  
Take it from myself because, boy, I ought to know."_

_I'm so glad we picked up a headphone splitter._ Wallace glanced at his travel partner snuggled into her seat, half-dozing to the loud guitar pouring from the wrap-around speakers resting at her ears. He smiled to himself, content to watch her occasionally mouth lyrics to the song.

To say their escape had been easy would be a fallacy. How many times had they caught each other glancing over their shoulders looking for a glimpse of a stalker, or ducking behind walls in hopes that the person immediately behind them was not trying to bring about an early demise to their plans? 

Of course, those were not the only concerns tugging uncomfortably at Wallace's weary mind. During the few days since Daisuke's frantic reply to his email, he had seen those words forming in his head, wondering the significance one missing person could make in relation to his mission.

_"Wallace-kun, been waiting. Captain Butterfly said you were coming. Please hurry, and bring  
the Digital Keys quickly. I don't know what they want, but...._

"....they have Ken-chan."

He cursed to himself under his breath, rolling over to lean his head on the thickly stuffed compact pillow offered by the airline. He stared off into the billowing clouds, wondering what would become of the pristine scenery beneath him. Before he had time to answer the question, the world fell out from underneath him.

The clouds seeped into the window, through cracks that should not exist, and wrapped around him, turning darker until they were deep cobalt, molding to his skin and wrapping around his flesh, stinging and digging in like the poisonous tendrils of a jellyfish swarm. A light weight settled about his face, plunging his world into an shaded glare-free darkness, as though very dark sunglasses had formed over the traveller's eyes.

Wallace landed with a dull thump on a metallic floor so finely polished that it reflected the scenery around him. Another heavy weight landed about his shoulders, and he reached with a gloved hand to feel the hefty thick guards holding a cloak to his frame. The whirring of electronics about him pulled his attention away from the startling weight of the fabric about him, and to his surroundings, even as he pulled himself to his feet.

Before him was an enormous monitor, like the one occasionally seen at concerts, displaying a dimly lit room, in which a young man was strapped down to a curved chair, reminding Wallace of the one in his dentist's office. The leather-bound individual was sleeping, showing the signs of a fierce struggle. The details of the captive were hard to discern, though Wallace was confident that there was a dark bruising under the young man right eye, as though he had suffered an impact.

The confused blonde took a step forward, but found it hard to move, not only because of the thick boots strapped to his feet, but the inky black water he found himself wading through. The water was as reflective as floor had been, but the surprise of his appearance forced him to lose his balance, and he fell forward in his attempts to right his equilibrium.

Wallace saw himself staring back, but he was not as he had been in the airplane, but a twisted version. His recently cut blonde hair stuck out in all directions as though he had slept badly, and a pair dark gold-framed glasses stared eyelessly back at him. His skin was shrouded in cobalt and white, tightly bound to his flesh and held closed with a length zipper, while the cloak fell about him. The figure was grinning at him, and Wallace felt as though he would scream.

The mirror image waved one finger, shaking his head before holding the digit to his own lips. Before him, red LED-style lettering flashed the words, "Shhhh." His lips moved, the expression condescending. Again the letters scrolled.

_"Don't scream. You'll wake the Kaiser."_

Wallace recoiled, splashing into the liquid obsidian, trying to contain his terror. Why would that name mean anything to him? He did not have time to wonder; his only concern was getting away. Even so, he found his limbs filled with ice, stubbornly refusing to move. His doppelganger rose slowly from the depths of the water, and walked across the surface, staring menacingly over the young man, leering.

The words flashed again, scrolling in an ellipse around the twisted reflection.

_"Don't scream. You'll wake the Kaiser. The Kaiser is grumpy when he wakes. A grumpy Kaiser is not fun."_

Despite the warning, Wallace found the voice to empty his lungs in a shrill cry of terror, barely noting that the bound young man in the chair on the monitor had opening his eyes, bloody tears pouring down. He moved his lips slowly, dully mouthing the words, "Get....out....keys....safe...."

The doppelganger looked over his shoulder, and then back to Wallace, shaking his head. He spoke again, this time using a voice that was deeper and more menacing than Wallace ever possessed.

"Now you've gone and woken him. Oh well, we don't need you anymore. You can wake up now. Wake up....wake up....!"

"Wallace, wake up! You're shaking!!" 

His eyelids shot open, sky blue eyes struggling to focus on his traveling partner's face. "Sariel....I...was I dreaming?"

"More like a nightmare! You were shaking and so cold! I thought I'd have to pour a pot of coffee over your head to warm you up." She joked, sitting back to relax only a bit. "I was really worried. You've been out for most of the trip. We've almost landed in Tokyo."

"Holy crap." Wallace sat up, a trembling hand pressed to his forehead. "I had the worst dream, but I'll be damned if I can remember any of it....just this black water, and a name....Kaiser."

"Kaiser? What, like a sandwich, or like the dictator?" Sari scratched her head, puzzled.

"Hell if I know. I guess the dictator version. I....I think I was him. I had a whip." He brushed his hair from his eyes.

"Ooh, a whip. Kinky." Sari let out a relieved laugh as a flight attendant's voice came over the speaker.

"Attention all guests. We will be arriving at Tokyo Narita Airport in twenty minutes. Please deposit all trash in the proper receptacles, return your trays to an upright manner, and buckle your seatbelts. We also ask that all electronic equipment be turned off and put away in preparation for landing. Thank you!

The instructions were repeated in Japanese, and Korean as the travelers worked to follow them carefully, and by the time the instructions repeated in Chinese, the crowd was ready for landing, candy being passed about between guests to prevent the uncomfortable popping sensation in their ears as the altitude dropped with the descent.

The bit of Tootsie Roll that Sariel had given Wallace did little to prevent that feeling, and he had to ask her often to repeat the bits of small conversation she tried to maintain. Eventually Wallace's ears did pop, and they decided to head to the terminal to wait for their contact, trailed by a taller figure, dark hair cut close as though it were an attempt to tame and control it.

"We have another dedicated fan." Sariel whispered to Wallace. "He's the one with the dark shades failing miserably at being inconspicuous."

"I've seen him before, somewhere. I can't place it, though." Wallace shrugged. "He doesn't look very evil and deadly to me. Well, if he is, then we'll go hide out until he's gone. We gotta go and find Daisuke first." 

As Sariel nodded enthusiastically, the two continued on their way, the younger of the pair squinting his eyes as a bit of light reflected off an argent surface, barely recognizing his friends who were waving him over. 

"Didn't you hear me?" Daisuke was at the front of a small group, trying to look happy to see his friend, though it was obvious that the expression was strained. There were folds of bruised flesh under his eyes, premature and caused by a great strain. His skin was pallid, and Wallace could not help but think that his friend was very unhealthy.

"Oh, uh, sorry, Daisuke-kun." A nervous smile crept over Wallace's face as he shot slender fingers through his cropped blonde hair, scratching nervously at the back of his head. "I guess I'm tired. Eh...." He paused.

"What? Spill it already." Daisuke might have looked at his friend suspiciously if he could manage the energy to do so.

"No offense, but you look like hell." The blonde shrugged.

Daisuke blew off the comment. "So, who's your girlfriend?"

A bright streak of crimson flashed as the blood reached the cheeks of both Americans. While Wallace stuttered, Sariel spoke on his behalf.

"Sariel Henry." She wasn't sure to bow or reach to shake hands, so she did both, grinning sheepishly. "I've had to keep your friend here out of trouble. Speaking of which....there's some weird guy following us."

From the back, Miyako made herself heard, speaking with amusement, despite the strain evident around her eyes. "Oh, that'd be Koushiro. He's been antsy since Sora and Yamato....um...shit."

A heavy hand had fallen on Miyako's shoulder, belonging to one Izumi Koushiro. "Yeah, it was me. Nice to finally meet the famous Wallace Ford." He reached to shake the younger man's hand, nodding politely as he did so. "Daisuke doesn't shut up about you. For a while, you were all Hikari-chan talked about too."

"Koushiro-san!" Hikari discreetly elbowed Koushiro once, before coming forward to offer her shy greeting to Wallace, and smile broadly at Sariel. "Welcome to Japan!"

There were more pleasantries exchanged before the small gathering relocated to vehicles to transport the pair of weary travelers to the Motomiya apartment residence. The apartment, while adequately furnished, could be properly described as "unkempt".

"Nice place, Motomiya." Wallace moved purposefully, taking his and Sariel's mismatched luggage to set in a place not occupied by clutter.

"Yeah." He sat, motioning for the others to do likewise. Any appearance of his former enthusiasm quickly faded as his eyes fell on a photograph taken years earlier. Two boys smiled back at him, one with a bit of hesitation and the other with an open-mouthed grin, laughing enough for both of them. 

Koushiro excused himself. "I'm going to call Jyou and see if he's found out anything. Hikari-kun, why don't you fill these two in on what's been going on?" He removed himself before the Yagami girl could reply.

Hikari chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Where do I begin? What I have to say won't be easy on either of you."

Wallace exchanged glances with Sariel, both sitting down to sip the tea that Miyako had prepared after arriving.

"Try the beginning, Hikari-chan."

"Well, to put it simply, we're being hunted. There's really been no sign of disturbance in the Digital World, until a few started turning up missing. We've all been so busy, but we took turns researching and exploring when we could." Lengths of hair fell to cover Hikari's eyes as she lowered her head, speaking with difficulty. "Oniichan had moved to Osaka after....Yamato-san and Sora-san got engaged. They were the first to turn up missing. The place was....a wreck. Oniichan was on his way up that night." She choked heavily.

"He never arrived." Sariel finished for the younger girl, receiving a nod of distressed assent.

"Iori-kun offered himself after that, to find out what was going on. After that, we've been vanishing one at a time. First Yamato-san and Sora-san, then Oniichan. We found out four days ago that Mimi-san was missing, and Takeru soon after as well. Ken turned up missing two days ago." She favored Daisuke with an almost pitying glance, before looking quickly at her folded fingers in her lap.

"Add Jyou to the list. No answer. At all. His _keitai_ service has been disconnected, just like what happened with Taichi-kun." Koushiro stepped into the dimly-lit room, his expression tormented by fear and twisted with worry. "I was supposed to be there with him. DAMN." The expletive escaped before he caught himself.

Wallace remained thoughtfully silent during the offering of recent history, looking to Sariel from time to time, maintaining a wordless conversation between the two adventurers. Blue eyes mirrored by his own related that she was definitely thinking along similar lines.

"We need to stay together, then. All of us, and with no communication with the Digital World unless we are with someone else." The silence after his words was only broken with the sharp exhalation of breath from his traveling companion.

"That means no contact with Renamon, or any of our partners, but maybe at present, it's better that we do things this way, at least until we can come up with some kind of plan, ne?" Sariel's suggetion was relucantly agreed upon by a series of slow nods, save one.

"How are we supposed to look for Ken? It's stupid, just sitting around doing nothing while he's.....wherever he is." Daisuke snapped, standing up. "Are you telling us to give up?!"

"Of course not, but what else can we do? We need a plan to rescue him, and the others as well!" This only earned the blonde a sharp glare from his vocal host, which he returned with unwavering conviction.

"Fine, whatever." The burgundy-haired student could only murmur, before he stood to walk to the bathroom.

Sariel watched him, shaking her head ruefully. Her obsevation shifted to Wallace, noting the concern in his face as he watched the other leave. A sharp pang of an emotion she barely recognized surfaced and was forcibly shoved back down again.

_God, am I jealous? What went on between them? No, Wallace wouldn't interfere._ Sari remained confident in that, and the emotion was effectively surpressed.

Wallace had since turned away from his observation to sit in the relative silence saturating the room containing the remaining Chosen. The brief flash of emotion crossing Sari's face had not been missed, and he mused over what that emotion might be.

He considered things for a moment. There had been a time when he was interested in Daisuke as more than a friend, but time and distance can do much to create an emotion out of nothing. There had always been rivalry between them, but towards more recent times, the rivalty developped into one-sided longing, and eventually into an understanding friendship. Wallace had no more harbored that former desire than he had been willing to stay in that private academy his mother thought would be so good for his education.

It was Hikari who finally broke the ice as she stood, taking the momentary effort to smooth non-existant wrinkles from her clothes.

"Come on, Miyako! Let's get some dinner ready for everyone. I think Daisuke-kun should have some packaged udon around here somewhere!" The shorter girl tugged on the taller one's arm insitantly, dragging her to the kitchen with little more coercion.

Koushirou had already busied himself with his laptop, working on trying to trace where their missing comrades were, and Wallace took it upon himself to suggest to Sariel that they step outside for a bit. There was confusion in her expression, however she did agree to the distraction.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Sariel...." Wallace trailed off, looking anywhere but at the expectant face that was focused entirely on him. "It's sudden, I know. I don't even know how or why. I guess that I wanted to say...."

"Yes, Wallace?"

"If you want to go back to Vegas, I won't stop you. I don't want you to be in any danger by staying with me. Your partner has already been lost once. I don't want you to go through that again, and if you were hurt...I...." His throat tightened, feeling as though he had swallowed too much _boba_. "I mean...."

"Wallace." Sariel reached with one hand, gently turning her taller friend's face to face her own. "Renamon knew the danger, and I do too. I don't want to be anywhere else than where you are." She bit her lip, and this time it was her turn to glance away nervously.

"Well...I...." _Goddamn. I can't....I can't tell her...._ Wallace fumbled. "I guess that's, um, it."

"Like hell that's it." And in one fluid and rather surprising motion, Sariel flung her arms around Wallace and kissed him then and there, with no more hesitation. Moments later, after both realized that they were still alive and needed air to continue living, did she back up a few inches. "Like hell...."

"I think...that's what I wanted to say." Wallace was a vivid shade of rose, but he smiled all the same, using his fingertips to gently brush stray strands of pale blonde from Sariel's cheek. His smile expanded when he viewed the knotted bracelet she had made him on the plane, tied securely to his wrist. "_Suki da yo._"

Sariel blushed furiously, but nodded once. "I love you too, you big softie. I think I did from the first day." She would have said more, but Wallace made it perfectly clear that he wasn't really all that interested in continuing a verbal conversation.

Not that Sariel minded in the least. Wallace, it seemed, had practice, and was making it clear that he would put it to good use as long as she didn't protest. As much as her moral concience fussed and complained, the more hormonal side of her thought processes proceeded to get into a wrestling match and put the equivalent of a mental Camel Clutch.

Another break for breath was necessary, before Wallace realized he had his traveling partner pinned to the wall, and a longer moment before he realized that she had pulled him there with her.

"I'm beginning to wonder just who is making the moves on who." He laughed lightly. "Here we are with a tragedy going on, and what are we doing?"

"Getting uncomfortable drama out of the way." Sari snickered in response. "Think of how things would have been if we had let this tension continue? At least now, we know."

"And knowing is half the battle?" He couldn't help but continue with the quote, and proceeded to resume his former activity, feeling rather pleased with himself and thrilled that she felt the same intensity and need he did. Wallace did not intend to disappoint her, but the nagging voice in his head reminded him that they were at a friends, and standing on his patio. Public displays of affection, even if behind a covered screen, were not often looked kindly upon as a socially acceptible activity.

It seemed that he pulled away just in time, as Miyako opened the screen door.

"Dinner is ready! Come one, let's eat!" She beamed cheerfully and obliviously at the blushing pair.

The evening meal was more or less a strategy planning session, with Wallace and Sariel inquiring about when and where the others had vanished, and any clues that had been left behind.

"Iori-kun said that they were using their Digivices and some sort of control device on their bodies, but other than that, I really don't have much information. He said that our D-3s protect us, but it could be possible that the enemy has learned to break through that." Ford advised them before slurping down a few chewy noodles.

"I find it interesting what part you have to play in all of this, Wallace." Sariel commented. "It seems like someone had to have known something was wrong, and called you into play." 

"What does she mean, Wallace-kun?" Hikari inquired, head inclined at a mild degree.

"Some rich old uncle arranged for my travels, and requested that I keep a log of it." Wallace began. "He signs his name with a 'G', and always leaves me a box address to deliver my letters to, but lately, I've heard nothing from him, though I still receive my money allowances." The traveler shrugged. "I know I'm being guided now, and I seriously doubt that it would be an uncle."

"Maybe it's Gennai." Miyako took note of Wallace's puzzled expression and began relating the brief history of the Guardian, and continued on to relate their final battle in the Digital World.

Wallace nodded with each word. "I think, perhaps, something has happened to him. I started receiving emails from some Butterfly someone or the other, but with what you're telling me, then...." He glanced to Sariel.

"....then it could be that Oikawa guy." She finished for Wallace. "I mean, it's obviously him, or someone trying to lead us in the wrong direction."

Agreement was reached with a display of nodded heads, and the meal continued in thoughtful silence until everyone had consumed the udon until they were satisfied. Sari offered to help Miyako and Hikari with the cleaning, but her offer was politely rejected.

"No, Sariel-san. You and Wallace-kun must be very tired! Why don't you two go rest?" Hikari offered, arms loaded with bowls. "We've got a room set up for you down the hall from Daisuke's room."

The two exchanged glances, honestly eager for the chance to have some more relatively peaceful time alone together. They slipped down the hall as directed, bringing their luggage with them.

Once alone, Wallace pounced, pinning Sariel with the intention of resuming the activities from earlier. This only got him flipped for his trouble, and the tickle match began to see who would end up on top.

Miyako pulled away from the door, a slow sinister smile spreading across her lips. "They're busy. Hikari, take care of Izumi. I wil handle Motomiya."

Hikari nodded once. "Izumi is already neutralized, and the implanting has begun. His Digimon Partner is already devolved and is being held in captivity with the others. Our recruit is ready for transplant."

"Excellent." She stepped past Hikari lightly, violet hair streaming past. "Let our guests exhaust themselves, and then we will bring Ford with us. The girl is of no concern, so we can leave her."

She moved purposefully into Daisuke's room, where the young man had fallen asleep on his bed, face buried in his worn pillow. The pale moonlight reflected off of what almost resembled a plastic surface, which she stuck to the back of the Motomiya boy's neck. It was done quickly and efficiently, and Daisuke did not wake, but fell into a deeper slumber.

"All too easy. The Commander will be pleased." Miyako permitted herself a small smile before she called to Hikari to assist her with the transport of their two new recruits, the smile only fading as Daisuke proceeded to salivate on her arm in his sleep.

Oblivious to the events outside of their private little room, Wallace rolled over onto his back, as Sariel cuddled against him, skin warmed under the blanket and by the warmth of the body next to her. Both were tired, and she was as sore as she expected to be, but at that moment, all was well. In moments, both had fallen into dreams, too tired for the words that neither saw a need to speak.

Pain! It was all in his head, spreading through out his body. He released it vocally in a scream that shattered glass from useless monitors around him as he fell to his knees into the inky black puddle. With tremendous effort, he kicked off the metal shoulderpads holding the unwanted cloak to his shoulders.

Before him was the same unweilding monitor, revealing a figure who was wide awake and screaming the same as Wallace did. The figure was a young man near his age, strapped into an uncomfortable chair. Wallace choked back his pain to watch the figure writhe in agony.

"Who are you?! Why am I dressed as you?" He lifted his pained voice and screamed the questions.

_You woke the Kaiser. You were warned not to._

The monochrome letters formed on the monitor, leaving a blinking cursor flashing at the end of the sentence, as though more text would appear. Wallace was not disappointed.

_He who holds the Keys is more worthy than he who cast off the Power. This world honors you as its Emperor._

"I don't want to be your Emperor. I want things to be as they were!" He stood shakily, wading through the thick liquid towards that screen.

_Reject the honor, and another will be Elected._

The image of the struggling stranger was replaced with the innocently sleeping Sariel.

"Not her....damn." Wallace's mind raced, and where his first instinct was to protest that surely they wouldn't take her, he knew better. Very well, they could have him, but he would make them fight for the rest of it, and he discreetly pressed a button on his D-3.

"Fine. I accept, but my failsafe is Sariel. If she comes to harm as a result of your actions, I will resist you to the fiber of my being."

The screen was "silent" for a moment.

_Parameters accepted._

Wires shot forth from the jet liquid beneath him, all connecting to a small filmy section on the back of his neck, and Wallace felt that firey torment, burning away all thoughts of who he was or might have been, to replace it with memories of another life and another time, and with desires of conquest and the means to make it possible.

His screams soon turned to a dark rich laughter.

Sariel woke when she realized that Wallace was no longer in bed with her. She reached for a discarded yukata, pulling it about her chilled shoulders. Next to her pillow, her Digivice beeped instantly. Blonde hair was moved with tired fingers from eyes that strained to see the readout in the darkness.

The item shifted in her hands, forming the lopsided teardrop shape of a D-3 in colors of white accented in pale grey. Before Sariel could fathom what that meant, her attention was pulled to Wallace's laptop, the screen active.

Four words flashed in green on black, causing Sariel to run to the adjacent bathroom to empty the contents of her dinner, though she did not understand what it meant.

_Welcome home, Digimon Kaiser._

**End Chapter Five.**


	8. Terminus

**Peregrine**  
Chapter Six  
_Terminus_

****

**ter·mi·nus** _n._  
1. The final point; the end.  
2. An end point on a transportation line or the town in which it is located.  
3. a.A boundary or border. b.A stone or post marking a border.

****

_"I traveled far to find you.  
Who knew you'd be so far away?  
I will stay now.  
Love._

"This weary heart,  
The only gift I bring you,  
This love I give to you,  
It won't stray."

The figure sat high on his throne, surrounded by various monitors behind and before him. He was in a temporary moment of deliberation. Surely the code should not have been so difficult that his genius could not overcome such an obstacle. Surely, with the Digital Keys in his possession, the coding to the Digital World would soon fall into his hands as well. Surely....

_Speculation solves nothing. I'll try again._ With the thought, white gloved fingers resumed their rhythmic percussion, again bringing up variants on the monitors surrounding him. He spared a glance in the direction of the eggs kept to the bottom of this throne.

_Sentimental rubbish. I should be rid of them, but they may yet have answers I require._ The Kaiser considered this, pausing to rake those covered fingers through rather unruly blonde hair before shrugging and continuing to type. When the newest set of coding failed, he allowed a loud curse to escape his lips and slung his keyboard to the ground.

The keyboard, as usual, rose and reformed itself, as it had been programmed to do. The Kaiser smirked to himself, and put himself to his purpose again, determined to complete his task.

From behind mirrored glass, he was unaware that eyes were on him, monitoring his repeatedly frustrating efforts. The taller man was stoic in expression, but turned his attention towards other things. He was flanked by a red-haired young girl, who sent a fretful glance after him.

"Sir, are things not going to plan?" She innocently inquired.

"No, Rosa, but they will. Eventually, Ford's subconscious will cease its battle and accept the Kaiser persona completely." In anticipation of her next question, he rose a hand to halt it in progress. "Ichijouji cannot interfere. When the personality is fully transferred to our dear Mr. Ford, we will discard the boy. DON'T give me that pout. You are no longer entitled to any emotion directed towards him."

"Yes....sir." Rosa's voice escaped as a bare squeak, which she repeated in a more controlled tone. "Yes, sir. As you command."

"Leave me." When the girl complied, the older man turned towards another mirrored window, looking over the unconscious and collapsed Chosen Children resting inside. The controls on these would not last, he realized, and so sedated and locked them up, to be disposed of later. Their partners had already been deleted, and once his pet had completed the task set for him, would no longer respawn.

The commander turned to look at another monitor, holding an elderly male, shaggy beard matted with blood. He had been beaten, that much was obvious, and yet still managed to bear his wounds with dignity as he leaned against the icy wall, naked and exposed to the frigid air of his cell.

"Gennai, you fool. You may have pulled the wool over the eyes of these children, but you and I know the truth. Separating into different physical incarnations of your personality might have put you in more places at once, but little did you realize that it would be your downfall."

In the main chamber, the Kaiser continued to type.

----

"Come on, Sari. You're lagging behind." Renamon called back to her partner.

"Sorry, Rena. I'm just tired." Sariel complained, stepping over the barren rocks that composed the mound leading to the fortress in the distance. The pair of them had been walking for most of the day, having been deposited near the edge of a perfectly serene and grassy plain. Immediately beyond the plain, as though it had been drawn there, began a blackened landscape, scorched as though burned and void of life. The nature of the terrain proved to be increasingly violent, and Sariel relied on Renamon more and more as the pair continued.

"I know, I know. Come on, though. When we get there, we'll find a place to hide you so you can rest, and I can go look for Wallace." The Digital Partner looked towards her Chosen, offering as encouraging a smile as her inhuman face could make. "And then we can kick the ass of whoever took him."

"I'm not so sure he was taken, Renamon." The reply had fallen on deaf ears, as Renamon insisted again that he wouldn't have left Sariel alone. "At any rate, if he _did_ leave on his own, I'm going to throttle that human. I'm sorry, but your boyfriend is going to be in a world of pain if that's the case." The Digimon did not really mean it, but was more concerned that Wallace Ford had left to protect Sariel from something related to those Digital Keys.

Sariel made no comment of reply, but kept trudging through the knee-high vegetation, expression strained but determined. _Wallace, you idiot._ She thought with just a trace of resentment, _You won't have to worry about Rena kicking your butt. I'll do it for her, and then I'll do it for myself._

In the month and a half that Sariel and Renamon had been searching for the wayward Ford, her hair had grown into an uneven set of long locks, curling about her face a bit with the sweat from her exertion. Her skin had taken a slightly tanned cast from sun exposure, giving her the look of an experienced wanderer. The young woman found herself startled at her reflection in the small pond the pair found a few days earlier, and she had turned away from it in momentary shock.

_Will you recognize me, Wallace? Will I want you to?_ Sariel had no answer for her tortured question, and so forced her mind into the numb haze it had been in previously.

----

_"Wake up. Damn you, Ford, wake up. I should leave you like this."_

Darkness. It was the first thing Wallace noticed as he came to a semblance of awareness within his own mind. His outstretched hand rest in an numbing wetness that resembled water turned to oil. A pair of pale legs extended from the center of the indeterminate liquid, connected to a lithe body. A striking pair of eyes glared down at the blonde, accusatory and pitying at once.

_"That's it. Get up already. We don't have much time before you're trapped here, Wallace."_

The voice had inserted itself directly into Wallace's mind and brought him to sharp alertness. He promptly rose, standing to look at the slightly taller young man, recognizing him instantly from photos emailed from Daisuke.

_"You're Ichijouji Ken, aren't you?"_ _"And you're Wallace Ford. Now that we know who each other are, we can start working."_ A delicate hand reached to tuck a length of violet behind one ear, regarding the other coolly. _"We don't have much time. I'm sure you know by now that our mutual captor is after those Digital Keys you carry."_

Wallace nodded slowly, understanding now that he was not truly awake but having this conversation within some spiritual location.

Ken continued, a touch of irritation in his voice. _"I'll put this simply enough for you to follow. Our captor has imprinted a repressed personality of mine over yours so that you can unlock the secrets of the Digital Keys. He wishes to remake the Digital World into some yet unknown form, and as we are Chosen, we obviously cannot allow this to happen."_

_"The Kaiser, right?"_

With that realization, Wallace suddenly felt an oppressive sensation, the turbulence of the forced personality suddenly weighing on him. _"How do I get rid of it?"_

_"You're not. You're going to use it. What's more, I'm going to tell you how. I want out of this as much as you do."_ Ichijouji replied, his tone softening. _"We've been pawns to long. I want this ended."_

Wallace nodded firmly. _"So tell me what I need to do."_

_"Speak to him. Whisper suggestions into his ear. Tell him what to type according to what I tell you. I have the knowledge, he has the skill, and you have the way."_

Wallace merely nodded, and leaned in to listen carefully to everything Ken had to say.

----

Night fell by the time Sariel and Renamon made it into the fortified castle, sneaking past sentries. There was an unnatural glow in their eyes, caused by the black bands controlling them, and it caused a snarl of justified anger from Renamon, who explained their significance to Sariel.

"So do you think that's what's happening?" Sariel inquired in a whisper, following Renamon.

"The signs are the same." The digimon answered grimly. "The black bands, the controlled patrols, the Spires...." She trailed off as another patrol came by.

"And what does Wallace have to do with this Kaiser guy?" The young woman questioned her partner, apprehension evident.

"Not a clue. None at all. Come on, we're going to go deeper inside."

The pair moved with ease from corridor to corridor, dodging oblivious guards the entire time, until the pair reached a curved service hall. They followed the path until they reached a violet velvet curtain lined with black trim. Sariel peered around it and almost squealed the name of the oddly dressed young man sitting on the throne.

"Rena, it's Wallace! Why's he dressed like that? What's he doing?"

The digimon regarded the throned figure, eyes narrowing. "Your Wallace has become the Kaiser, and I'll be damned if I know how. We're going to have to watch him a bit longer before we understand what's gone on before we can know what to do for him."

"Oh, Wallace...." Sariel felt bitter tears forming in her eyes, and stubbornly wiped them away, determined to save the man she had come to love. "He's just typing."

On the throne, the Kaiser was indeed typing, unaware that his hands were now being guided by an unseen force. Internally, Wallace was strained, exerting control while the other trapped figure spoke the coding in a clear voice.

_"No, it's a negative equation, so you need to counter with something positive. Keep that up and you'll have the whole place barren."_ Ken's voice hissed at Wallace.

_"I don't know crap about programming. Give me a break!"_ Wallace retorted.

_"Stop arguing with me and concentrate!"_ The taller one snapped. _"We don't have much time."_

_"You're worried about Daisuke, aren't you?"_

There was a dramatic pause, Wallace feeling a sharp touch of sympathy at the suddenly stricken look on the other's face.

_"Yes."_

_"I have someone I'm worried about, too. Don't worry. Whatever I felt for him has turned to friendship a long time ago."_

_"I wasn't worried about that."_

Wallace only returned to his concentration; his physical body responded and made the necessary corrections. A slow smile touched at the corners of his mouth as the oblivious dictator was unconsciously manipulated towards the mutual goal.

"Hey! What are you two doing there?!" A shout sounded as an enormous sentry caught sight of Renamon and Sariel spying on the Kaiser.

"Run, Sari! Hide! I'll hold him off!" Renamon turned her back to her friend and poised to fight the larger opponent.

"Be careful!" Sariel knew better in this situation and deferred to her partner's knowledge and experience. Still, she realized with the blast of energy that her partner had been deleted, feeling that void inside her even as she stumbled along.

"Rena...." It was no time for mourning, Sariel realized. She was completely alone and had no idea what to do to stop this situation, but she couldn't give up despite her intense weariness.

Tired feet pulled her to an unlikely destination. To her surprise, she chanced upon a storage cell, holding people she recognized from images on Wallace's laptop as the other Chosen. A lurking figure leaned over them, using clawed hands to pull small chips from the backs of their necks.

"I'll return with the replacement chips." Lady Devimon commented to the sentries as she passed by. "Keep guarding."

"Yes, ma'am!" The slug-like sentries replied.

Once she was gone, however, Sariel knew it was time to act. She took a pole from the wall nearby and rushed the two, attacking the black bands as Renamon had told her earlier. The pair blinked in confusion and apologized before wandering off. 

Sariel unlocked the cells carefully, standing at the door. "Wake up. Hurry!!"

Those locked inside slowly stirred, eyes blinking as they slowly came to, freed from the restraint of the control chip for the first time in over a month.

"Sariel-chan?" Hikari was the first to speak, confused.

"It's me. Look, we don't have time. You have to get out." As the group woke and moved to stand in the hall, Sariel related everything she had seen.

"I'm going with you." Daisuke said firmly, arms folded in a manner that indicated he would argue that point indefinitely.

"The same goes for the rest of us." A deeper voice spoke, coming from a handsome blonde Sariel recognized as Yamato. He had an arm draped around Sora, who was nestled at his side.

"This is what we do." She replied with a touch of exhaustion.

Once introductions were made, Sariel led the group off, back the way she had come.

----

"You let them escape, you ridiculous thing!" The commander seethed at Lady Devimon, hurling a goblet at her which she did not dare dodge. "You idiot, their energy is needed to energize the Keys!"

"Sir, I was only gone for a moment to get the chips!" The black-clad digimon explained, her voice going unnaturally shrill with fear.

"There is no excuse!" He pulled a firearm from his robes, and with one solid shot, sent a slug directly into the female digimon's forehead, scowling as she dissolved into her data components.

He ordered a complete lockdown of the facility and tripled the patrols. Those annoying Chosen had to be found! He knocked over a table in his fury, and turned in a rage, gun aimed at the one who stood in the doorway. Slowly, he released the trigger without firing.

"Rosa...."

"Sir, he's done it. The single Key is forming!" The smallteenager barely got out her excited reply, frightened by the sight before her. "And....and somehow, the captives are in the Throne Room."

The commander wasted no time, but brushed past the girl, leaving her to follow in his wake.

----

_"You were telling me how to program them into a single Key?!"_ Wallace demanded, rounding on his advisor.

_"You'll be able to manipulate it when it's formed."_ The answer was calm. _"Our Digivices are needed to give it power, after all. Let's just hope that girlfriend of yours can get the others free."_

_"You know, I left her there so that she wouldn't get wrapped up in this."_ Wallace replied with a sour tone.

_"Would you expect her to come after you any less than you would go after her?"_ This was coupled with a single raised eyebrow and scrutizing glance. _"No, I suppose not."_ _"Get to work then."_ In the throne room, the Kaiser continued his typing, grinning with a fevered joy as the single key formed before him. He barely recognized his friends as they gathered around.

"We need to wake him." Sariel lamented. "Wallace is in there somewhere."

"You can wake him with your Digivices." A low voice called out. The figure that spoke stepped into the light, pulling back a hood to reveal light brown hair framing a youthful face.

"Gennai!" The name echoed through the ranks, but Sariel's eyes narrowed in frustration. She had seen this man before and could not place him, but instead deferred to the others' recognition of this man.

"Quickly! Focus your energy on the Key!" He instructed.

One by one, each Chosen followed those orders, focusing their nearly exhausted strength at the golden key, only to find it draining the energy. Sariel tried to pull away, and found the act impossible.

"How quick you are to follow a familiar face." 'Gennai' laughed, allowing his sneer to shine through. "Before you try to say anything, yes, I am who you think I am. An aspect, anyway. To aid you those years ago, I had to separate into multiple aspects of my personality. Of course, the more negative persona needed detainment, but I escaped. Now that you have my life story, you can continue to be depleted. I certainly can't leave you alive after this."

"But why is he....like that?" Sariel asked, wanting to fall to her knees but finding the act impossible as her own Digivice held her in place.

"I simply borrowed the Kaiser personality and looped it over your little boyfriend's persona. The knowledge came from the Chosen of Kindness, but as the Keys selected Wallace Ford as their guardian, he had to be the one to access them." 

The throned figure had since thrown down the keyboard, walking towards the Key with arms outstretched, taking it in his hands. "Finally...."

"Give the Key to me." 'Gennai' spoke, approaching the Kaiser with anticipation in his eyes.

"And why would I want to do that? Don't be ridiculous. With this power, my domination will be uncontested!" Before the stunned aspect of Gennai could respond, a gloved hand reached out and pressed against his chest.

"No, how....I put a control chip....!"

"Oh, that thing." He made a dismissive shrug. "You made a fatal mistake when you thought you could control me, or manipulate this part of me." The shimmering glow of the Key duplicated itself on the Kaiser's outfaced palm, engulfing the stunned clone. Before another word of protest could be uttered, he had exploded into fiery sparks.

"One pest down...."

"Wallace!" Sariel cried out, feeling the impassive stare of the figure that regarded her coldly.

"I don't know this....uuuuh." Suddenly, he fell to one knee, clutching the Key to himself desperately as the cloak, mask, and heavy boots and gloves brushed off his form and turned to dust.

"Just in....time." A voice gasped, belonging to a slender form leaning on the more athletic shoulder of Daisuke. The pair both extended their Digivices towards the Key Wallace clutched to his chest.

"Come on, Wallace. Get up. It's in your hands now." Daisuke added. "You started this when you decided to go wandering, so finish it already!"

Wallace blinked, surrounded by light and warmth, and slowly stood. From the light around him, voices whispered foreign words, brining a sense of purpose and mourning from him. He regarded the faces of his friends, and finally settled on Sariel.

_This world has no one to guard the Key. Anyone could make this happen again, and my friends would never be safe. The Digital World has a guardian, but the Chosen have no one to guard them._

"I love you, Sariel. Be safe."

"Wallace, no!" She reached out, despite the restraint on her as Wallace was engulfed in brilliance, the light extending next to swallow them all.

----

"You're a little late, Sariel." Miyako teased, even as she sent a jealous glare towards her husband's back as he sat on a log to chat with his best friend.

"Ooh, Miyako, what's with the look?" Sariel wondered, her own glance going to her son playing with the other children on the field before them.

"Ken spends all the time with Daisuke these days. He's a good father, and he tries to be attentive...." Her face fell, glancing away.

_We all suspected that he married Miyako to make his family happy._ Sariel mused, but she didn't say anything, instead opting to give her friend's shoulders a squeeze.

"How have things been for our friends?" She asked instead.

"Well, Yamato and Sora got married. She's got her fashion line, as you know, and Yamato's been to Mars and back twice. Taiki's the boy, and Akemi is their little girl. She's just like him, too." Miyako continued. "Daisuke runs some noodle company, Hikari teaches, Mimi has a cooking show." She sighed. "We've all got busy lives, but we had to make sure our children knew where this peace came from and what we fought for."

"Well, Will is growing up to be a lot like his father." Sariel commented, watching as the oldest boy kept an eye on the group. "He's going to start at a boarding school soon. He's pretty excited."

"Wow. Won't you miss him?"

"Every day, but it's what he wants." Sariel turned her eyes overhead, a slight smile appearing at the irridescent butterflies that dove in the direction of the children at play.

The two women sat in silence before Miyako stood. "I've gotta change Naoko's diaper. I'll be back in a few moments."

Sariel sat alone for a few minutes. "Wallace, are you proud of us?"

For that moment, she was surrounded by warmth as arms wrapped around her, an ethereal hand brushing the hair from her eyes.

_"Every day."_

Sariel closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth.

_"So, are you ready to come with me?"_

"I can't leave Will alone. Wait for me?"

_"Forever, if I have to."_

Sariel's eyes opened, and while she no longer heard the voice, she felt the love sent from the one who now looked over them all, even during this time of peace.

_You won't have to wait that long._

**End.**


End file.
